Sword of Honor, Broken Silence
by Toa Kraahkus
Summary: All Miko ever wanted was excitement, a life on the edge. Before Jasper all she had was the monotony of downtown Tokyo, boarding school and piano lessons. Then she met the Autobots, and a whole new world opened up. Now, three years after the restoration of Cybertron, Miko is about to learn the truth of her heritage, and just how close her two worlds really are.
1. Prologue

"The End," She said closing the thin book, "Goodnight Sweetheart." But she should have known it wouldn't be that simple.

"But Moooommyyyyy," The young girl whined, slanted amber eyes big and pleading behind her long black hair, something she inherited from her mother. "Can't you tell me one more story?" The mother sighed, having expected this but hoping her daughter would go to sleep after one bedtime story regardless.

"Well what would I read you?" She asked in mock confusion as she looked at the girls small book case. "We've already read every book in your library twice."

"Tell me the one about the princess!" The little girl said quickly, excitement written all over her face with amber eyes glowing in anticipation. The mother laughed quietly to herself, yet another thing she should have seen coming.

"Do you mean the one about the princess and the warrior?"

"YES!" She squealed, "Pleeeeeease Mommy!"

"Okay settle down. We wouldn't want to wake your father now would we?" The mother knew her husband was still wide awake, but their daughter didn't need to know that. "Now, how does this one start? Oh yes, well, Once upon a time, long ago, there lived a princess. She lived in a beautiful castle, with loving parents, and everything she wanted she could have. Everything that is, except what she really wanted. You see, the princess didn't want to be a princess, she wanted to be a singer and travel the kingdom performing for villagers and royalty alike. But her parents wouldn't let her; they said," The mother put on a gruff silly voice, "The stage is no place for a princess, now go back to your gowns!"

"Meanies!" Her daughter exclaimed, folding her arms as she made a sour face, bringing a smile to her mothers.

"That's just what the princess thought. So one night, she snuck out, grabbed the fastest horse she could and left the castle. She rode for miles, but then, out of no where," Her daughter tensed, pulling the bed sheets up to her eyes in anticipation, even though she had heard the story a dozen times before. "A group of bandits attacked her! She tried to run, but they chased her until her horse couldn't run anymore!"

"No!" The girl squeaked.

"But then, just as it seemed all hope seemed lost." her daughters fear suddenly transformed into wild excitement.

"A warrior arrives to save the day!" She yelled leaping out of bed and striking poses as if she was wielding a sword. "He jumped at them, roaring his challenge, swinging his sword, cursing their names!"

"Miko Nakadi!" her mother scolded, freezing the energetic seven year old in her tracks. "No pretend swordplay in the house. Now, the warrior saved the princess, but in doing so."

"He got stabbed!" The girl said over excitedly, making a mock stabbing motion into her thigh, making her mother cringe ever so slightly.

"Injured, he was injured," Her mother quickly corrected, "But yes he was hurt. So the princess took him back to the castle and nursed him back to health. But as the months dragged on, and the moons changed, something...unexpected happened."

"They fell in love, yuck!" The girl said rolling her eyes and making a gag noise. Her mother only laughed, knowing her reaction would not be much different when she was older. Her daughter was not the type to play damsel in distress, she had too much of her father in her for that.

"That's right, and one night, under a full moon, she caught him trying to leave the castle. Without even saying goodbye."

"Jerk," the little girl said climbing back into bed making her mother laugh to herself.

"She asked him to stay, begged him not to go," The mother said, a slightly distant look creeping into her eyes, "He told her he loved her, but he had to go, because as long as he was with her she would never be safe again. There were men hunting the warrior; bad, evil men who wanted to hurt him and anyone who got in their way. The warrior left the princess and her castle, but the day after, the evil men came and kidnapped the princess. They took her away to their lair, deep within a mountain as bait for the warrior."

"He rescued her right?!" The girl asked, leaning towards her mother.

"Of course he rescued her silly," her mother scoffed, "The warrior found the princess, and after a fierce heroic battle, tricked the evil men into burying themselves inside their own hideout!"

"And then what?" her daughter asked, absolutely bouncing in her seat, "Then what happened mommy?"

"Oh I think you know," Her mother winked at her, "The princess decided she didn't want to be a princess anymore, so she ran away with the warrior. They had many adventures in amazing lands, and lived happily ever after. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're still off somewhere having adventures."

"Awww," Miko whined, "Is that it?"

"That's it for tonight," her mother said tucking her daughter into bed, then kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight Miko."

"Goodnight mommy," The little girl yawned snuggling into her blankets as her mother closed the door to her room behind her. The woman smiled to herself as she walked down the hallway toward her own bedroom, making sure to avoid the two young cats lounging about on the floor. The tiny felines were barely over a year old, but they were already shedding all over the families small home, and not a day went by she wasn't thankful none of them were allergic. She found the door to her room, unsurprised to find her husband sitting up in their bed with a fresh sheen of sweat glistening off his dark skin.

"You know exercising before bed only keeps you up longer," she said matter-of-factly as she sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"Perhaps," He said quietly in Japanese, his voice coming in throaty accented purrs despite his speech lessons. He shook his head then looked to his wife, green eyes with amber flecks at their rims glowing in the low light. It was striking how their features contrasted one anothers, his dark almost african skin against her paler complexion. "How is Miko?"

"Asleep," She said with a relieved sigh, "For how long is the real question. She's getting wilder every day. I had to read her a second story this time."

"Oh," Her husband perked up. "And what story was that?" She just smiled as she slipped into bed beside him and kissed him on the cheek, running her fingers through his short black hair.

"Ours." Her husband rolled his eyes as he lay down beside his wife.

"I do wonder Mikazuki," he mused out loud in his grim way as he examined the ceiling, "how many nights has Miko gone to bed with terrors in her head because of that tale?"

"She asked for the story," Mika said quickly but not harshly, "Besides she already knows it by heart. Whats the harm in it?" She asked snuggling up to her husband. "Its not like she's going to go looking for mythical castles and dashing warriors of her own."

"Not today maybe," He sighed, wrapping an arm around his wife. "But honestly Mika, why do you keep telling her that story? You know we cannot tell her the truth."

"Why not?" She asked propping herself up on an elbow and shooting her husband a glare, "you don't expect her to go her whole life without knowing do you?"

"Preferably yes," he said flatly and he turned his body, only to wither for a split moment under his wife's glare before his grim resolve returned. "Mikazuki, you know why we can't tell her. If Miko ever found out the truth, about how we...where I came from...about_ them_." His words had the effect he had hoped for and simultaneously wished to avoid, as His wife began examining the sheets of their bed with darkening eyes.

Her husband sighed, the repetitive debate not helping how tired he already was. "I know how much you want her to know Mika, but didn't we both agree that the only way for Miko to live a normal life is if she never does?"

"I know Dynomo," Mika sighed leaning back into her husbands scarred chest. "But I don't know if I can bear lying to her. Shouldn't she know where she comes from? Something about her heritage?"

"We could visit your parents this weekend if that would please you."

"You know that's not what I meant," Mika groaned, "She has the right to know about _all_ of her heritage. And she will find out on her own eventually." Dynomo was about to protest but realized Mika was right. Even if Miko only turned out be half as stubborn as either of them one day they would slip up, then she wouldn't stop until she found the whole truth.

"My Sensei once told me, sometimes we have to keep secrets that are not ours to tell." Mika rolled back toward her own pillow and sighed into it. She wanted to tell Miko the truth. The girl was only seven, but everyday the guilt of lying to her daughter ate away at Mikazuki more and more. But her husband had his reasons, good reasons for wanting to keep Miko and their family as far away from his past life as possible.

"Can we at least agree," She sighed trying for one last compromise if only to put her mind at ease, "That when she asks, we will tell her the truth?" Dynomo's eyes darted across the small room, hoping against reason for a quick answer to a long term problem. He sighed, knowing his wife would only accept one.

"Yes," he relented, "when she is ready, she will know."


	2. Chapter 1: A Better Rat Trap

"Attention Passengers. We will soon be landing at Narita International Airport. Please take this time to turn off all personal electronic devices as well as in-flight music and movies. Thank you."

Miko ignored the message, continuing to sift through the pictures on her camera, not caring that most of them would probably be classified above top secret. But that was Fowlers headache, not hers. He might have moved up the ladder since they first met but Miko had never been the best at recognizing authority. She hid her camera as a stewardess passed by, waited a moment, then went back to her pictures. They weren't as interesting as they used to be, but they were no less special. Most of were of construction sites in various remote locations, all somewhere between just started and half finished. One was of a tall young man with raven black hair directing some of the workers around, showing them how to avoid the glowing crystals lining the rocks nearby if Miko remembered correctly, while the one after it showed a shorter teen making calculations on a plexiglas board.

She sighed; She missed her friends, Jack and Raf, in some ways more than her old guardian and Wrecker idol Bulkhead. After the Autobots had revived and returned to Cybertron, their former charges had joined William Fowler in Unit:E, along with the Autobot medic Ratchet.

Miko snapped back to reality when she felt the plane shake around her, and heard the familiar screech and squeal of tires on runway. She smiled slightly, more than a smirk but not as wide as one would expect from someone coming home for the first time in four months. Miko didn't hate her parents, well no more than any other young adult looking for to prove themselves could, but it always seemed they were trying to tie her down. It was a miracle she had ever gotten them to agree to the foreign exchange program that had let her spend her high school years in Jasper Nevada. Sure she came home every summer and over the winter break, but after graduating from Jasper high last year she'd barely had three months with her parents before she told them about her interning plans. Her internship of course was just a cover that provided her clearance, not that she really needed it, and an explanation for her popping up in various parts of the world.

Today however the ground-bridge was down after an earlier malfunction. According to Raf they had been sending a team of paramedics to one of the Decepticons old energon mines in South America after a cave in trapped some Unit:E workers setting up the base there down in the tunnels. But when the team leader went running through the bridge, he immediately came flying back out faster than Bulkhead with a scraplet on his tailpipe. So Ratchet and Fowler had stopped all ground-bridge travel until Raf and the Hatchet could find the problem.

But Miko pushed the thoughts from her mind. Work was the last thing she needed to be thinking about while she was on vacation.

She picked up her carry on bag and followed the stream of other passengers out of the plane, failing to put her mind completely on track for carefree relaxation. Her fathers hadn't taken it well when she told him about her plans to travel the world, and it was only after Miko convinced her mother that he had agreed. That was how most of their family disputes went; she would make her case to one of her parents, then they would convince the other. When she was eight and wanted a bike she asked her mom first then let her sweet talk her dad, and when she was ten and decided she wanted to take judo classes, she'd gone to her father first.

The memory brought a smile to Miko's face, along with a snorted laugh. The sound drew a questioning look from the other passengers assembled around the baggage claim but Miko couldn't help herself. She always laughed when she remembered how on her first day of class her judo instructor had taunted some of the students parents out onto the mat, never actually striking them but making sure the students knew how tough he was. But when he got to Miko's dad, he was in for a surprise. Miko still remembered how her father had a judo master, a third degree black belt, flopping and stumbling around his own dojo before putting him on the ground three times. Looking back Miko realized it probably hadn't even been fair, but you would never have guessed the speed her father had moved with.

Dynomo Nakadi was a mystery to most people outside of his family and a few close friends. His dark skin and tall frame made him hard to miss in a crowd, and he had a certain gruffness to him that made you reconsider approaching him. Even his voice, Miko remembered, had a kind of raspy growl to it, but it didn't stop him from cracking the occasional joke or when it came time to remind her mother how much he loved her.

Now Miko had her bag and was making her way from the baggage claim to the main lobby where her pick up was waiting. She scanned the signs people were holding up for arrivals, only to realize she didn't see one for Miko or Nakadi anywhere. Maybe Fowlers guys got stuck in traffic, or more likely they were lost in the terminal. Again. But just as she thought about moving to look for her pick up elsewhere.

"EY STREAKS OVER"ERE!" Miko stopped in her tracks, not only was the voice in a familiar accent, but only one person in the whole world called her that. She followed the voice, then found its owner waving his arms from where he stood beside a trashcan. Miko wasted no time in navigating her way through the sea of people and running up to the man, bags in tow.

"Uncle Rodney!" She said excitedly wrapping the honorary family member in a hug, one he returned in earnest. He was dressed in his usual style, tennis shoes and light brown shorts with a matching cargo vest over a solid grey T-shirt.

"Hehe, Nice to see you too kiddo," he replied in his unmistakable New York accent as he broke the hug. "_Geeesh_ you've gotten tall," he said looking up at her, but only slightly. "Meh, must be your Dad's genes finally kicking in." Miko never remembered Uncle Rodney for being especially tall, her dad practically towered over him, but she had just recently tipped the five foot nine inches mark, making her a half foot taller than her favorite uncle.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, still smiling ear to ear then looked around. "And where's mom and dad?" Rodney's face changed for a moment, but it was so quick Miko barely had time to notice it.

"Something uh, came up at your Grandparents place," He said quickly, "they had to take de train out last night and couldn't make it back in time. Come on," he said grabbing the larger of her bags and starting for the exit. "Lets get outta dis madhouse."

"Uhg, Uncle Rodney,' Miko said noticing his direction of travel, "The stations that way."

"We ain't tak'n de train dis time!" He said, and his step gained a slight but noticeable skip as Miko rushed to catch up. "You know dat pawnshop I been work'n at?" He asked as he and Miko walked out the terminals main doors and headed toward the car park. "Well, de other day dis guy walks in, say's he wants his watch back, old rolex, niiice look'n too. Parently he and his wife got into a lil disagreement, and she sold the watch to ge'at him." He shifted the luggage he was carry to his left hand, then started fishing for something in one of his innumerable pockets. "Well turns out, dis guy owns a rental car service not too far from the shop. So, we cut a deal." He retrieved the car keys, and started clicking them, looking for the car in question.

Even if she was only half listening to his story Miko was still happy for her Uncle. Even when she was a kid she knew her Uncle Rodney was a thief, or at least had been at one point. And he was good at it too, if the way her parents talked about him was any indication, but Rodney had been adamant about going straight in recent years, going as far as getting a job in a pawnshop in Tokyo's south side. However, despite living in the most crowded city in the world, Rodney's big goal had always been his own car.

"AH-HA!" he cried as his furious clicking produced a beep in response, "Der you are!" He jogged over toward the sound, and Miko was right behind him, right until she actually saw the vehicle.

Or rather...Saw _Him_.

"No way," Miko gasped, nearly dropping her bags.

"Nice huh?" Rodney asked gesturing to the massive forest green pickup truck, but Miko was most focused on the red and silver face like badge emblazoned across the trucks grill.

A few minutes later the same forest green pickup truck was headed west toward Tokyo, but unknown to its passengers, so was the dark blue drone like aircraft flying silently above them.


	3. Chapter 2: Head of the Problem

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! CAN'T YOU BRAINLESS NOOBS DO ANYTHING RIGHT!?" Raf keyed the music from his computer louder, trying to block out the irate yells as his mentor groaned nearby.

"Dear Primus," Ratchet said through clenched denta as he focused on the ground-bridges exposed internals, "Give me strength." Raf was thankful Ratchet hadn't let his frustration get the better of him. Throwing wrenches might have worked with the Autobots but Raf wasn't sure how Fowler would take his agents getting hit with tools as big as they were. Raf glanced over his shoulder, where the annoyance in question was ordering workers around with more authority than he really had.

He was tall, a little over Jack's height, which meant Raf only came up to just below his shoulders. He was wearing a simple white lab coat over a pair of dark grey jeans and a purple Gears of War T shirt. His auburn hair was long and messy, partially hiding his face but unfortunately not quite long enough to get in his mouth. But he was the least of Raf's concerns.

'Slag it,' Raf cursed to himself when the simulation he had been running finished flawlessly. He glanced up at Ratchet and the currently defunct ground-bridge. "Anything Ratchet?" Raf asked tiredly stifling a yawn.

"Negative," The medic glowered, not taking his optics off the portals circuitry. "I assume the simulation failed once more?"

"Yep," Raf sighed resetting the program and opening a file. "This doesn't make any sense; according to the operation history, we input the commands perfectly, and they WERE executed." He placed his laptop on the console in front of him and slouched back in his chair, taking off his glasses and running a hand through his messy brown hair.

"You should recharge Rafael," Ratchet said guessing the boy's exhaustion, "it is unlikely that I will solve this problem before you awaken."

"Okay," Raf yawned, getting out of his chair before descending the catwalk to the floor. He made sure to avoid the flurry of activity taking up the east wing of the hanger and made it to the door that would lead him outside and that much closer to his nice warm bed. But just before he could grasp the handle, the door opened, revealing the face of a tall lanky teen with black hair. He smiled.

"Hey Raf, long time no see."

"Jack!" Raf shouted in joy, immediately hugging his best friend, and Jack was a little surprised he no longer had to kneel for Raf to give him a proper hug. The teen had hit a growth spurt in recent years, one that didn't seem to be slowing down though Raf was still a little on the short side. Jack was just glad he had been able to maintain their big brother little brother bond in the chaos of Unit:E's escalating operations.

"Long night?" Jack asked noticing the bags under Rafs eyes and glasses.

"Yeah," He said looking back at the ground bridge, "Me and Ratchet have been trying to figure out what went wrong with the bridge, but so far..."

"Nothing," Jack said tiredly, clearly under the effect of jet-lag. Seems you don't really appreciate being able to instantaneously transport anywhere on earth until you're stuck riding a C-130 between bases. He started to ask a question, before another yell from across the hangar drew his attention.

"Not that left, MY LEFT! YOUR RIGHT!" Jack suppressed a groan, but not quite well enough.

"Something the matter Agent Darby?" Jack stood a little straighter as he turned and faced his supervising officer.

"uh, Director Fowler I was just uh."

"Save the formalities for the briefings son," the army rangers veteran said tiredly even as he walked toward the ground-bridge waving the two young men to follow him. "Just say whats on your mind." Jack and Raf shared a glance before falling in behind the Director.

"I just don't see why you make the staff here put up with that jerk," Jack said bluntly. "Its not like he does anything besides take up space and waste power." Fowler gave an amused scoff and smirked at the young agents snide remark.

"Honestly, I'd kick him to the curb in a heartbeat," He admitted, "if he wasn't one of only two people on earth that understand cybertronian anatomy." 'And the only human not employed by MECH,' he added silently. "So yes, he's a pest. But until we find someone smart enough to replace him, Masterson stays." The sound of vents cycling above them was not lost on the humans.

"The only thing that insect understands," Ratchet huffed, "is how to take up the valuable time of others." Fowler sighed and hung his head; he did not need this, not after flying in from Shanghai, but thankfully the Autobot medic changed the subject. "Why are you here Director Fowler?"

"Briefing," the rotund man snapped, lowering voice slightly as he, Raf and Jack climbed the catwalk up to the ground-bridges control console. Ratchet cycling a groan, then grudgingly put down his tools and walked where he could better hear the humans. "I had to make sure the information is given face to face," He said coolly, taking a manila folder from his jacket and handing it to Jack, who then handed pages to Raf and Ratchet. "Didn't want any of this going digital. These were taken by one of our high orbit satellites over Singapore just yesterday."

Raf's breath caught as he recognized the object of the picture; a dark blue almost black modified MQ-9 Reaper drone, one that had a familiar extra set of fins in front of the tail.

"Soundwave," Ratchet half growled, easily crumpling the paper held between his fingertips.

"But, that's not possible," Jack said quickly, "We trapped Soundwave in the shadow zone on board the _Nemesis. _There's no way he could have warped back. Unless..." Raf's eyes lit up, and his glasses nearly fell from his face.

"THE GROUND-BRIDGE!" He yelled, flying to the controls and yanking open his laptop. "It DIDN'T Malfunction! It was Soundwave! That's why when the team went through, they came flying right back. It was because Soundwave had opened another ground-bridge and crossed it with ours."

"But that still doesn't explain HOW he opened another bridge," Jack said, remembering his and Rafs own experience in the shadow zone. "The _Nemesis _is still on Cybertron."

"If there's a way," Ratchet said grimly, "Soundwave could most certainly find it."

"And now that ole faceless is loose," Fowler said taking the photos back, "We need to keep our eyes and ears open for any and all Con activity. Ratchet, get on the line with Cybertron as soon as you can. All the other Con commanders are either locked up or missing. That makes Soundwave the highest ranking Decepticon left."

"What if he's working alone?" Jack wondered out loud. "We haven't found any more Vehicons on earth, save for those Megatron left guarding the mines." Ratchet had of course taken care of those, with more than a little help from some well placed human artillery.

"Can't risk it," Fowler said flatly. "If there's one thing the cons do well, its hiding in plain sight. And I'll bet all fifty stars that that mute has some kind of reinforcements hiding somewhere."

"I will contact Cybertron," Ratchet said walking over to the cybertronian size console opposite the catwalk. "Ultra Magnus will doubtless want to send a team to find and eliminate Soundwave." He paused and looked back at the Director. "We should contact Bulkhead as well, and have him bring Miko back to base." The only response he received was three identical stares from the humans.

"Ratchet," Jack said with the slightest hint of sarcasm, "This is _Miko Nakadi_ we're talking about. Remember what it was like trying to keep her at the base?"

"Trying," Fowler emphasized, "Being the appropriate word. Besides I wouldn't have okay'd Ms. Nakadi's vacation if I didn't think she would be safe." Ratchet glanced at the human, scanning his face for any indications of deception. While William Fowler had never gone out of his way to deceive any of the Autobots, that they knew of, Ratchet had a feeling in his fuel pump that the former Agent was holding something back. "In the mean time, Rafael," Fowler said looking to the computer genius, "I need you to update all of Unit:E's encryption algorithms, new codes on everything, every file, every email, anything Soundwave can hack, see that he don't. We can't let the decepticreep get anything."

"Yes sir," Raf said giving an informal salute, only to yawn right after.

"After a power nap of course," Fowler added, then turned to Jack. "Agent Darby, I'm reassigning you here to Omega Two. Once we get a lead on Soundwaves location I want you to take a team, intercept, and do whatever you have to to bring him down. Speaking of which, follow me." He gave a slight nod to Ratchet and Rafael, then descended the catwalk and despite his apparent lack of exercise, quickly crossed the hangar to where Masterson was still ordering staff around.

"Oh is that so!?" He screeched in a nasally voice that reminded Jack a little too much of Starscream for comfort. Apparently someone had finally gotten fed up with him and decided to put their foot down. "Well tell me, Did _You _reverse engineer an alien robot from outer space?! NO?! Did _YOU_ reconfigure its control circuits to work with!"

"MASTERSON!" Fowler barked, stopping the inventor cold, who gave one last glare and muttered curse toward the subject of his wrath before stomping over to Jack and Fowler, hands thrust in his lab coat pockets.

"What do you want?" Jack was literally inches away from knocking the punk out cold, but Fowler put his arm across his path, stopping him.

"An update," He said flatly, "How close are you to prototype stage?"

"Well I would be closer if these nimrods would hurry up with setting up my la,"

"_A number_ Henry." Jack smiled when he saw the inventor flinch and his high and mighty air vanish.

"...Two weeks," He said after a moments thought, "I've already figured out the command frequencies and designed the basic frame but."

"You have three days," Fowler said curtly, then turned to walk away, only for a panicked Masterson to dash in front of him.

"Whoa-ho-hoo man, be reasonable!" Jack's glare said it all, and earned another flinch from Masterson. "Okay I get it, you don't like me, your loss. BUT THREE DAYS?!" Jack's glare never wavered.

"You said you've already designed the frame," He said with the slightest smirk.

"Yeah, the _basic_ frame. I still need to figure out how to link it to a main body! Not to mention all the neural bypasses, armor plating, individual measurements!"

"The measurements have already been emailed to you," Fowler said, leaning in close to Masterson as his tone lowered to dangerous tones. "And you have three days to get a suit made to those specs up and running, _because on the forth day this base is liable to be a charred pile of rubble_." Masterson's face had lost most of its color by this point, and the inventor simply nodded and went back to setting up his lab, at a much quicker pace than before. The Director said nothing as he turned and walked away, closely followed by a very serious Jack.

"Whose measurements?" He asked quietly, soliciting a sigh from Fowler.

"Jack, you know I have the utmost respect for you and your friends after what you did for Optimus and Team Prime." Jack's gaze fell at the mention of the last Prime, and Fowlers tone was more solemn but no less frank. "But lets be honest, out the four of us who's the only one who's actually fought a Con metal to metal and come out on top?" The color drained from jack's face as the realization dawned.

"Oh scrap...Miko...you gave him Miko's measurements." The director nodded and glanced back towards Masterson.

"Better her than some punk who doesn't know Uncle Sam from Lady Liberty," he said, before he stopped and whispered to Jack as he handed him a key card. "And just in case Masterson can't meet his new deadline, use this in the elevator. It'll let you access the basement level and storage."

"Must be pretty important," Jack observed, "What exactly do you keep down there?"

"Oh just a few moth balled old vehicles and tech from the Mobile Armored Strike Command program."

* * *

High above the Island of Honshu Japan, Soundwave had abandoned his surveillance of the human charge, choosing to let his casseticon partner Laserbeak keep an optic on her while he saw to other needs. He streaked down through the clouds in the darkness, cutting his engines and gliding slowly down to the ground before transforming and landing with practiced grace. He silently surveyed the wooded terrain around him, taking in the vegetation and scanning the landscape of Oze National Park. They had once attempted to establish an energon mine near here, however the site had never yielded anything beyond the initial energon signature their ship had detected.

But his time in the shadow zone had given him time to think, and look, and think some more. A ping from his scanners alerted Soundwave, and he immediately started in the direction of the signal, still completely soundless. If anything his time in the shadow zone had made Soundwave creepier; wandering across earth unseen by any and all had served to bring back some very unpleasant memory files for the Decepticon communications officer.

Before the war, nobody had even known who he was. Nobody paid any attention to those in the entertainment caste other than during their performances. But Soundwave always paid attention to them, and his casseticons were listening and watching ever so intently to every little detail and data byte exchanged during his performances in Tyger Pax's theaters. It wasn't long after he happened upon Megatronus and his message that Soundwave had abandoned his old life entirely and devoted himself and all his resources to the mech he knew could finally restore Cybertron and their species to what they had once been. So when Megatron finally did start his uprising, everyone had just assumed Soundwave had been there since the beginning, a gladiator like his leader fighting in the pits of Kaon.

He slowed his pace, the pinging from his sensors increasing in pace, indicating he was close to his goal. He examined the terrain, the whole area was covered in low and high vegetation. There was a stream nearby flowing down the gorge from a waterfall to his north east, the mist from the falls resulting in a strangely refreshing cool sensation on his plating. From there a ridge stretched across his field of vision, sloping down until it merged with another rock face. He scanned the ridge, not finding any signs of a device that might cause the energon signature until his scanner showed one part of the ridge had been disturbed recently.

Recently being a term expressed in decades for Cybertronians, but the plant growth surrounding the scan area confirmed that this had been the sight of a rock slide. He walked up to the pile, at a slightly lesser slope that the rest of the ridge and dug his claws and cables into the earth. There was some small gratification in touching after being a phantom for so long, and before long he had removed enough soil for his intentions. Retrieving the mining charge from his sub-space, Soundwave planted the charge in the freshly dug hole and armed it before quickly transforming and retreating to a safe distance.

The charge exploded, showering the area with dirt and debris as the rocks collapsed, revealing the entrance to a cave. Soundwave landed and ducked inside the cave mouth, forgoing his exterior lights for his scanners. he didn't have to go far before the source of the energon signature revealed itself as a themselves. Soundwave's optics widened in surprise, no one would have expected to find these four on earth. Though in hind site, Breakdowns presence on this planet should have been an indication his brothers and sisters had been here at some point as well. Gestalts rarely remain separated for long periods of time.

Soundwave scanned the bodies. All of them were in stasis lock, low on energon, and had suffered varying degrees of external wear, but that was to be expected after being trapped underground for so long. Then he saw the fourth mech, and Soundwave had to recheck his sensors. Not only had he been presumed dead since before the exodus, but his entire body seemed to have been systematically cut up and sliced apart.

This was unlike how Knock Out preferred to torment his prey. These cuts had been swift, quick and precise. A scan of the mech's spark chamber confirmed Soundwaves suspicions; He would need a new body if he was to function again, one compatible with his class. A quick flick of his cables and Soundwave had downloaded the mech's memory core, though he was more concerned about how he would control the others until their leader was back online. Repairing the other three would be easy enough, but for the leader what He needed was a cybertronian body of comparable size, power and class to hold the spark.

And fortunately, Soundwave knew just where to find it.


	4. Chapter 3: Reunited and it Hurts so Much

**Here's the replacements chapter 3 I promised you guys. Hopefully this is just a space filler until I can get the original file back, but until then this should do the job for new readers.**

* * *

"Ey, streaks, wakey wakey!" Miko felt a hand shaking her awake shoulder, and tiredly swatted it away, choosing instead to curl up further into the passenger seat. "Meh, Fine don't get up, not like I was gonna offer to get you someth'n te munch on." Rodney's remark coupled with a growl from her stomach reminded Miko just how hungry she was. It didn't matter which airline you flew with, the in flight meals always sucked.

"Fiiine," She groaned, lifting herself up in her seat just as Rodney exited the Expressway and started searching for a gas station. She couldn't hide her knowing smirk. It wasn't long until they'd found a station, and Rodney parked the truck next to one of the gas pumps.

"Okay, what'll ya have?" He asked, opening the door slightly, letting in the cool night air.

"Just chips and a soda," Miko said quickly, leaning forward onto the trucks console. Rodney nodded, then closed the door and went back to start the fill up. Miko immediately straitened up, smiled and hugged the console, squealing through clenched teeth. The electronics on the console flashed blue as their owner laughed.

"Hehe, I missed you too Miko," Bulkheads low but gentle voice rumbled from the speakers.

"This is so Awesome!" She said still squealing. "You're back! You're back! You're really Back!"

"Easy easy Miko, your Uncles gonna hear. Robots in disguise remember?" A frown flashed over Miko's face, but quickly faded as her smile took over again.

"Still a stupid rule." Bulkhead just laughed.

"Good to see you ain't changed too much. How've you been?"

"Awesome," Miko said locking her hands behind her head and smiling, "I get to travel the world, AND bash Cons and Mech goons along the way."

"Great to know you're still wreck'n. I was afraid Fowler would've cooped you up on some base."

"Pffft, as if," Miko scoffed, "I'm the only reaaal fighter he's got." Bulkhead smiled and laughed a little, remembering how Miko single-handedly took on Starscream and his Airadicons while wearing the Apex Armor, though none of the Autobots had ever been able to figure how exactly she had been able to use the relic.

"I missed you Bulk," Miko said leaning forward again onto the console. Bulkhead wanted nothing more than to transform then and there so he could return the hug.

"I missed you too Miko," he said softly, then noticed Miko's uncle was walking toward the gas stations store. "You never told me you had an Uncle."

"Well, he's not _really_ my Uncle," Miko admitted, as Rodney paused to answer his cell phone. "He's one of my parents friends."

"Heh, could have fooled me," Bulkhead remarked, "You treat each other like family."

"Yeah but most of thats cause he likes my Mom."

"And you're old man?" Bulkhead asked sensing a potential animosity.

"Eh Dad doesn't _hate _him, but he, well. I guess you could say he tolerates him. They never really see eye to eye on anything, and they aallways end up fighting, but its the fun kind of fighting."

"Uh Miko," Bulkhead said noticing something had changed in her Uncle, "I think somethings up with your Uncle." Miko turned in her set and looked; her Uncle Rodney was now pacing the pavement in front of the store, one hand holding his phone the other wringing through his hair. He looked nervous, as he mumbled to himself, but neither Miko of Bulkhead could make out what he was saying. He started talking at a more frantic pace than that typical for him, and he was gesturing wildly, almost in a pleading manner. But then he just stopped.

"Somethings wrong," Bulkhead thought aloud, as the smile ran away from Miko's face. Her uncle seemed to be stunned, numb and limp as he hung his arm by his side, and his phone actually slipped out of his hand. He stumbled back, hitting the wall of the gas station store and sliding down it until he was sitting on the pavement. He stayed there for almost five minutes, not so much as moving, before he got up, grabbed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket before walking into the store, still looking numb and warn out.

"What do you think it is?" the wrecker asked his former charge.

"Whatever it is," She said with almost grim determination, "I'm gonna find out."

* * *

Soundwave glided soundlessly into the cave, scanning the space for intruders before transforming to robot mode. Reaching into his internal storage, he removed the tiny cache of energon crystals he had been able to transport with him in his Vehicle mode. Soundwave knew better than to keep all his data in one place, and despite the humans perceived thoroughness there were still quite a few energon mines they had not discovered. Unfortunately the closest one was in southwestern China, and as Soundwave added his latest quarry to the pathetic pile in one of the caves many antechambers, he knew his strategy had to change. Soon.

He ran over his options: Its was unlikely the humans had discovered the Alpha Tarn base on the dark side of their moon, but he had neither the energon nor the mech power to operate it. He glanced across the cave, to the four stasis locked bodies crumpled against the jagged rock walls. The smaller three were useless to him, and could prove more dangerous to his operations than any Autobot. He would have to revive their leader first, and for that he needed a replacement body.

Soundwave hesitated, but realized he had no choice, and established a camouflaged link to the planets world wide web. It took only a nano second for him to log into the website he and his contact. He waited a moment, silently hoping he would not be online.

weirdwolfensteinD86: dood ur 0n! wer u ben?:

Or not. Soundwave cycled a groan, the sound suppressed by his mask as he keyed his reply.

Soundblaster0001: My status requires I avoid all manner of detection, visual and electronic.:

WeirdwolfensteinD86: that must suk bearings.:

Soundblaster001: Quite... I need your help. What do you know of M.E.C.H.?:

weirdwolfensteinD86: i no they got their cans handed to them by the autodolts and that their leaders been mia for a wile now: Soundwave decided he would omit how Silas had been terminated by Airachnid, and focus on getting the information he needed.

Soundblaster001: I need you to locate a piece of their equipment taken by the authorities. Codename: Project Chimera.: He wasn't about to provide the files himself, too risky, so he waited a moment while his contact appropriated the necessary background information.

weirdwolfensteingD86: i wantz 1:

Soundblaster001: No.:

weirdwolfensteinD86: pleaz?:

Soundblaster001: No. I require the frame to reconstitute a fallen comrade to aid me in achieving my goals.:

weirdwolfensteinD86: ? :

Soundblaster001: I need the body to bring a ruthless killing machine back to life.:

weirdwolfensteinD86: Ah...: Soundwave waited for a further reply, but his patience was thin.

Soundblaster001: What is it?:

weirdwolfensteinD86: whats in it fer me? yes i bridged u in from the twilight zone but that was fer lulz. this is gonna cost ya:

Soundblaster001:...What do you believe is just compensation then?:

weirdwolfensteinD86: a body: He typed, surprising Soundwave for a moment. :a fully functional, armed and operational cybertronian body and not 1 of those pipsqek dronez u gave me last time: Soundwave paused for a moment, considering the consequences of giving such a chaotic individual access to the quality of cybertronian technology he was asking for, and weighing those consequences against the potential benefits. His contact was narcissistic, uncouth, rude, and would just as likely turn his weapons on the Decepticons as the Autobots. But, Soundwave reminded himself, once he had revived his compatriot controlling the human wouldn't be an issue.

In fact, the potential consequences posed by the humans presence were vastly outweighed by one benefit, that is if he could get it working, and restore the finer motor functions.

Soundblaster001: Done.:

weirdwolfensteinD86: 0_o seriously?:

Soundblaster001: Though the chassis will require some maintenance on your part, it should more than meet your requirements.: He attached a small jpeg file to the message, and waited a moment for it to reach his contact.

weirdwolfensteinD86: Y3$! T0t4l 0wn4g3!:

Soundblaster001: A fair trade then.:

weirdwolfensteinD86: H3! Y3s! heres the location: The message included an attachment, and after a quick virus scan, Soundwave opened the file. He smiled under his face-shield. Predictable humans, they really should find new hiding places for their secret technology.

Soundblaster001: Thank you. :

weirdwolfensteinD86: just make sur u kep ur end of the deal: And with that his contact logged off, leaving Soundwave alone with his plans once more. If this deal worked out, not only would he increase the Decepticon ranks on earth by five, but it would also give him a very powerful trump card to play when the Autobots returned.

* * *

Rodney returned a few minutes later with Miko's snacks, and he still looked worse for wear. He didn't say anything as he opened the car door, handed Miko her snack and climbed behind the wheel. He was about to put the key in the ignition, but Miko swiped it from his hand.

"Nuh-uh," She scolded, holding the keys close.

"Nows not de time Streaks," He said tiredly, but Miko didn't budge.

"Oh come on Uncle Rodney, I'm not blind," She said softening her tone slightly, "What happened out there?"

"Nothin you need to know about right now," He said quickly, eyes forward. But Miko didn't need to see his eyes to know he was lying.

"I know when someones hiding something Uncle Rodney, I learned that from my Dad. I just want to tal."

"THERES NOTHIN TO TALK ABOUT!" He snapped, making Miko flinch back in her seat; he had never snapped at her like that, and Rodney's face told her he already regretted it. "Streaks," he sighed, "I'm sorry but...dis ain't info you need to hear from de likes of me."

"WHO Then?!" Miko snapped back suddenly with her own venom, "am I just supposed to wait until you guys think I'm ready to know all the facts?! Or do you plan to just keep me in the dark, so I can sit at home, play the piano and watch two cats get fat! I! WANT! ANSWERS!" Bulkhead was taken aback, in all the years he'd cared for Miko she'd never just exploded like that towards anyone, not even Ratchet.

Rodney stared at Miko, the girl still huffing as her temper lowered slowly. He looked ahead, then took a deep breath as he steeled his resolve, and a part of Miko cheered at the victory.

"Miko," He choked out slowly, "Miko you're mom's dead. She passed away an hour ago." Silence filled the car, and Miko's mouth hung open like a broken door, while her uncle choked out the words. "She, she'd been sick fer a long time, but she didn't want you to worry with your trave, HEY! WAIT! MIKO!" He lunged for her arm but to little to late. Miko was already out of the car and running. "MIKO! MIKO COME BACK!"


	5. Chapter 4: Demon's Rising

William Fowler couldn't sleep. Not because of the stress of being the Director of Unit:E, managing the relationshup between Team Prime and the military had put hundreds more gray hairs on his head than his current job, and nor was it dealing with the threat of renewed Con attacks. Truth be told Fowler always knew in his gut the Decepticons would come back to earth, even after Ultra Magnus called in from Cybertron to tell them Megatron had disbanded the movement. But Soundwave was not what had kept him up all through the night. It had been something much more personal. A knock at the door drew the directors blank stare into focus and up to the door.

"Come in," he said sitting up from his previous slouch as a young man in plain office slacks and dress wear with an army rank pinned to his shirt entered.

"Here's the file you requested Director Sir," He said placing the thick manila folder on Fowlers desk. The file was fat with papers, and its worn cover revealed its age, along with the faded Top Secret lettering on its cover. But he was more immediately interested in the soldier before him, as his chocolate skin, a slightly lighter shade than Fowlers own, and face reminded the Director of someone from his past.

"Whats your name Son?" he asked, not bothering to reference the ranking symbols on his shoulder. The man perked up, and snapped a quick salute.

"Corporal Jeremiah Hinton Sir," he said.

"At ease soldier," Fowler said dismissively, recognizing army when he saw it. "I knew a Marvin Hinton back in the day."

"No relation Sir," The corporal nodded passively, earning a sigh from Fowler.

"Right. Sorry about that, haven't had my coffee yet."

"Should I get some?" Jeremiah asked, but Fowler just shook his head.

"No no its fine," He said with a wave of his hand, "Dismissed."

"Sir," The corporal said snapping a final salute, then left the way he came. Folwer sat there, staring at the newly closed door for a moment, then looked down at the file on his desk and the lettering on its tab, words that had managed to keep him up most of the night.

Tokyo: 1996.

He opened the file, removing the top page that was covered in top secret and classified notices and focusing on the pages beneath, reading carefully. This was the only version of these documents that wasn't covered in black ink, and now more than ever Fowler felt he needed to know the whole story behind its contents. But just then, another knock at the door.

"Come in," Fowler said closing the file and stashing it in the top left drawer of his desk, looking up as Jack Darby walked in. Unit:E's rising star was no longer a stranger to rank, but he and Fowler had too much shared history for such formalities.

"Update from Ratchet," Jack said, knowing the importance of face to face communication now that Soundwave was at large again. "He just finsished talking with Ultra Magnus. He's sending a team to track down Soundwave." The portly Director leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows on his desk and locking his fingers together.

"And who can we expect to be playing host too during this Con hunt?"

"Wheeljack and another bot," Jack said nervously, earning a look from his Commanding officer.

"Does this, "other bot," have a name?" Jack hesitated, before finally spitting out a name.

"...Skylynx."

"THE PREDACON?!"

"Hey don't shoot the messenger!" Jack defended. "Bumblebee's been pushing Magnus for a stronger alliance between the Bots and the Preds and he thought this was an opportunity."

"Great," Fowler groaned, "So while we've got the con without a face loose on our planet, Cybertron's doing trust exercises!"

"To be fair Soundwave won't be easy to find, and who better to track him down than a predacon?"

"Makes sense I guess," He admitted. "So how long until they arrive?"

"According to Ratchet, tomorrow." 'Or however long it takes Predaking to find Skylynx and drag him to the space-bridge,' Jack added silently.

"Very well, dismissed," The director said waving Jack off. Sensing he had interrupted something earlier, Jack nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Fowler looked down at his desk, then took out the file he had been reviewing earlier. He would spend the next five hours sifting through its contents, memorizing the documents order as he set aside individual papers and images.

One of the pictures was an old Polaroid camera photo of three teenagers. The two boy's seemed to be at odds, the one on the left glaring down with green eyes at the other, who's mischievous grin did not bode well. They framed a girl in the center, Asian features drawn up in a familiar unabashed grin as she flashed a full set of pearly whites and held up her free hand in a peace sign near her short black hair held up in a single ponytail on the side of her head.

Fowler flipped over the photo and read the names of those in it: Dynomo, Mikahura Nakadi, and Roderick McNeil.

* * *

Jack covered his mouth as a yawn escaped. It was early, too early to be up and about for his liking. But it was also too late to go back to bed, as the entire base would be waking up and active in barely an hour. So Jack decided on wandering until then, walking back to the hangar as opposed to his quarters. The security detail guarding the hangers entrance gave him a tired nod as they unlocked the door, one Jack returned with only slightly more enthusiasm. He walked slowly across the hangar, the space split unevenly between the ground-bridge portal and projector on the back wall at the south end, and the cluttered lab space that lay strewn across the hangars east wall.

Jack stopped in front of the Ground-bridge projector, staring up at the massive machine. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, imagined he was back at Omega-One, about to go running after Miko as the girl stowed away on another mission. Or maybe playing games with Raf and Bumblebee, while Ratchet yelled at Bulkhead for breaking yet another piece of equipment. He laughed, missing the old days, the thrills, not knowing what the next trip through the ground-bridge would lead him into. Make no mistake, it was a relief not having a squad of vehicons shooting at him on a regular basis anymore, but at the same time he missed it.

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his messy black hair. Maybe Miko had the right idea all along. Sure she nearly got herself blasted to atoms more than a few times, but Jack knew none of them had gotten a bigger kick out of being with Team Prime than Miko had. If that girl knew how to do one thing right, it was enjoy the moment.

"HEY JACK-KNIFE!"

And the moment was lost.

Jack sighed, turning to face the voice's owner.

"What do you want Henry?" He yelled, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. Jack hated jerks, but at least Vince had had the bully angle going for him. Henry was just an all around prick.

"Just get over here," The inventor called, not looking at Jack, "I need your help." Jack hesitated a moment, then walked over to where Masterson was standing, albeit hunched over what looked like the mechanical skeleton of a forearm. The inventors lab was more or less a collection of well cataloged clutter, meaning he managed to keep used fast food bags and trash in one corner, and his prototypes and equipment in another. The shelves walling the space off from the rest of the hanger were pilled high with tools and half assembled pieces of tech, only adding to the space's chaotic aura.

"Hold this," He said handing Jack a still smoking soldering iron, then pointing to the arm's wrist. "Now solder here, here and here. Tiny drops." He sprinted off, leaving Jack to carefully place a dab of molten metal on the indicated circuits, before returning with his lab coat sleeve rolled up and...applying lotion?

"Good, good," Henry said halfheartedly, moving Jack away from the arm, making adjustments with a screwdriver until the assembly unfolded, expanding via an accordion like hinge just before the wrist. Masterson bent down, then wriggled his oiled arm into the assembly, pausing momentarily to force his hand into the palm and fingers sections. "Stupid girl hands," he grumbled as he readjusted the assembly causing it to close. "Okay Jack-knife, start the camera." Jack had to look around for a second before he saw the camera mounted on a tripod. He walked over and turned it on, setting it to record as Masterson opened one of the larger containers littering his lab space, easily big enough to hold a car, and retrieved and handheld remote control from the inside wall.

"Is it recording?" He asked, not even looking back at Jack or the camera.

"Yeah its on."

"Okay stevey boy," Masterson grinned, "showtime." Henry activated the controller, causing a pair of angled lights to activate inside the container, followed by the sound of an engine turning over. He worked the controller, and slowly the familiar shape of a black and purple Cadillac Ciel rolled out.

"Henry," Jack said nervously from beside the camera, "Is that a?"

"Yep!" he answered excitedly, returning the controller to its hook. He gave his gauntlet another glance over, then stepped back to the computer desk, keyed a few commands and cleared his throat. "Engaging wireless power transfer." He hit the enter key, and immediately the machinery on his arm began to glow and hum as electricity flooded the circuits. Henry was smiling like a fool. "Heh, kinda tickles actually," he admitted, before looking back to the Ciel. he reached out his arm, as if gripping a steering wheel and moved it in a circle. Jack felt his jaw drop as the cars front tires turned in the same direction as Masterson's arm.

"Holy slag it actually works!"

"That ain't nothing!" Henry grinned, turning the wheels back forward. "Check THIS!" He crossed his arms in an X over his chest, triggering the familiar sound of components shifting and rearranging as the car unfolded into a crouching humanoid form. The vehicon stood up, arms crossed over its chest plates in mirror of Henry's, as the inventors manic grin threatened to split his face in two.

"YES! TOTAL OWNAGE!" He let his arms fall to his side, and looking through the camera, Jack saw he was surprised when the Vehicon mirrored him perfectly. "Huh, cool." He lifted his arms, first the gloved one then the other, the Vehicon not missing a beat on raising either servo. He flexed his fingers, and again the vehicon followed suit. Jack realized that the vehicons head had also been mimicking Henry's when the inventor took a step forward.

"WHOA!" Jack yelled when a Vehicon foot suddenly slammed down inches from him and the camera. "Watch where you drive that thing!"

"Ah cool your jets Jack-knife," Henry said dismissively, backing the vehicon up its original position. He did a few more movements, flexing his nonexistent muscles and rolling his shoulders, and even jumping up and down on one foot before Jacks yelling got him to stop before he brought down the hangar. "End test," he said, recrossing his arms and triggering the vehicon to transform back into Vehicle mode, then spoke directly to the camera. "Okay, test complete, interfacing of human nervous system with cybertronian circuitry successful. The reaction time between command and action has decreased to nanoseconds. Looks like my theory of neuron echoes was right on the money; a single component was sufficient to achieve full body sync with very little if any decrease in reaction time compared to the transmitting limb. Aaaannd cut!" Jack turned off the camera, and Masterson began working on removing his control gauntlet.

"So," jack started, too interested in what just happened to let his disdain for its inventor to stop him. "You're going to make a whole suit of that tech?"

"Not anymore!" Masterson grinned, "Now that I know one component is enough for neuro-sync, I'll be able to put the rest of the suit together in no time."

"Why not just use a simulator?" Jack asked, "Or some kind of virtual reality?"

"That was my first thought but," he paused, grunting as he pulled the control gauntlets glove segment from his hand. "It just didn't have the punch I wanted." He placed the hand back on the table near the computer he'd typed the commands on, then pulled up another file. "So this time, I'm going right to the head of the problem." Jack walked up and peered over the inventors shoulder. The file was a design render of a suit, technical readouts, armor specs, and a rough animation of the entire suit transforming into a vehicons head. This brought another question to Jack's mind.

"Why the head? Why not have the pilot fit into the chest or back or something?"

"Three reasons," Henry answered flatly. "One I ain't making no frikk'n Gundam. Two is that because of the spark chamber, an accurate enough chest shot is a one-shot kill for Transformers. Take that away, and LOOK OUT! You've got a soulless monster coming after you!" Jack nodded at the inventors logic, and though he hesitated, he asked the obvious question anyway.

"And three?"

"Honestly," Henry said casually keying a command on his computer, "I thought this was the quickest way to get to the HEAD of the problem!" A rim-shot sound effect played from his monitor, earning a groan and a face-palm from Jack. "You know take the bull's head by the horns. And besides, trying to redesign the torso to fit a pilot in there was giving me such a headache!"

"Stop," Jack groaned, holding his head in his hands. "Just...Stop, please."

"Yeah your right, I should probably quit while I'm A-HEAD!" The rim-shot played again, and Jack found himself praying for a Con attack.

* * *

The sun was just starting to set the sky aglow behind the mountains in the east, and The Groom Lake Air Base had yet to awaken fully. Normally you would expect a countries most infamous top secret testing site to be on maximum alert twenty four seven. Recently however, the attention of the media and popular culture had migrated to Nevada's northern corner, to the small town of Jasper. How ironic, that an alien invasion had finally accomplished what so many government cover-ups had failed to do: Take the worlds eyes off of Area 51.

But the bases commanding officer knew that even if the conspiracy theorists had moved on for the time being, there would be no shortage of weird at the legendary air base.

"General, I think you should see this." Johnathon Bryce glanced up from his morning coffee, shifting the cup of black liquid to his other hand as he trudged through the morning haze over to the computer station, and the soldier manning it.

"What is it?" He asked, still groggy as he walked up behind the monitor.

"I'm not entirely sure," the soldier admitted, adjusting his monitor fervently.

"Well get sure," Bryce deadpanned, sipping his coffee. God how he missed regular army. Nowhere near as green as these Unit:E kids.

"Seems to be an aircraft of some kind, nine miles out and closing." That got the generals attention. He grabbed a headset and fixed the microphone near his mouth as the neighboring radio technician tuned him to the correct frequencies.

"Attention unidentified aircraft, you are in restricted US Military airspace. Identify yourself immediately and proceed west out of the area." He looked down at the technician, but the soldier only shook his head. "Not squawk'n eh?"

"Bogey has increased speed," The technician reported, voice wavering slightly as he checked and double checked his monitor. "UFO is now five miles, four, three miles out and closing fast."

"Someone's in a hurry," Bryce thought out loud, then switched his mic to the bases speakers even while another technician activated the alarm. "Attention all personnel, we have an unidentified aircraft in bound to our position. Assumed hostile. This not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill!" He imagined the soldiers scrambling out of their bunks and up from their breakfasts to rush for their weapons. General Bryce wasted no time in making his way from the radar control station up to the main tower over looking the base and the desert surrounding it, just as one of the tower operators cried out.

"Radars jammed!" Bryce's mind went to defcon 4, and he snatched a pair of binoculars from one of the operators. He lifted the lenses to his eyes, just as the intruder crested the low ridges on the bases west side. He focused the binoculars, but immediately thought his eyes had to be lying to him.

The aircraft was unmistakably a UAV Reaper drone, painted dark blue and with a jet engine in place of the usual propeller. Bryce watched as the drone banked hard right, its wings nearly vertical as it sailed past the control tower as if in display. The vague recognition was quickly replaced by terror though, when he saw the angular face like symbol glinting on the Reapers wing.

"Get Fowler on the Line NOW!" He screamed. "We got DecepticoAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" But his order was lost when a piercing sonic shriek suddenly filled the air. The glass in the control towers windows shattered, shards cutting into the airmen's flesh as they fell to their knees one by one, pressing their hands to their ears, futily trying to block out the deafening noise. Bryce forced himself up on his knees even as his limbs began to numb and vision blur, but not before he saw the Reaper come to a stop in midair over the bases fuel depot, and then change. That was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness for the last time.

The blast doors were sent flying with a single heave, allowing Soundwave to enter the hidden bunker. A quick scan revealed the location and nature of the humans security measures, designed to trigger a collapse of the structure and explode the fuel reserves above in the event of an intruder. A quick shot from his resonance blaster destroyed the devices totally, and Soundwave strolled right in. He casually walked up to the suspended form of his quarry, and silently remarked how well the humans had captured the originals likeness in the lifeless steel.

The final product of Mech's famous Project Chimera.

Nemesis Prime.

Soundwave immediately set to work, removing his tools from his internal storage and briefly reviewing what Shockwave had taught him about open spark repairs. A few moments of careful adjustments to activate the husks t-cog, and the copies chest shifted open to reveal what Soundwave had been silently hoping for. Mech had been so thorough in their examination and replication of cybertronian anatomy, that they had even included in their creation a spark chamber.

Using his cables he uploaded the necessary memory files into the doubles processor while simultaneously transferring some of his energon to the copies fuel tank. Then, reaching into his sub-space, Soundwave gently removed a small, at least by cybertronian standards, cylindrical container that held a slowly pulsating glowing blue orb. He steadied his servos, and carefully reached in and held the container between the two poles of the spark chamber. He waited until the circuitry surrounding the chamber began to glow, the energon reacting to the sparks presence, and disengaged the containment field. The container slip into two halves, folded into its two opposite ends and exposing the spark before Soundwave jerked his servos back and away from the chamber.

The spark reacted quickly, two lances of energy lancing out at its poles to contact the respective ends of its chamber. The frames circuits blazed to life, glowing yellow at first, but slowly shifting until they shone deep decepticon purple. Even patches of the armor itself began to change color, dark shades of the originals armor darkening further until a whole new color scheme had emerged. His legs were black, as well as his arms and much of his torso, the detailing of his shin and shoulder armor picked out by deep purple accents, while his thighs, abdomen and the smokestacks jutting from his back remained a dusty gunmetal gray.

Soundwave watched as the mech's optics finally came on line, shining in a purple emulation of the originals, followed swiftly by the mech's processor booting up.

"Whu, what, Where am I," The mech asked in a groggy but familiar voice, stumbling forward as the restraints set up to hold his body up right snapped and crumbled like wet paper. Soundwave lunged forward, catching the larger mech and positioning himself under the crook of his shoulder. The mech looked to see who had caught him, recognition slowly creeping over his face plates, still partially obscured by his battle mask.

"Soundwave?" He asked, earning a nod from the silent mech as his unsupported arm reached up to grasp his helm. "Oh Primus, my head," he groaned, battle-mask sliding open to reveal the only part of the body that Mech had not been able to recreate. "How long was I offline?" He asked through a torturous looking mass of shifting parts that made up his vocalizer, giving him the appearance of a fanged demon from human myth. Soundwave keyed the words over his visor.

:Approximately 18 of this planets solar cycles. Take care, the gravity of this world is considerably less that that of Cybertron.:

"So I'm still on Earth," he groaned, attempting to stand on his own stabilizer,s but failing. "Ugh, my body feels, different. What happened?"

:Your structural frame was damaged beyond repair. I was forced to transfer your spark to a new body, one created by the humans and based on the Prime himself.:

"Prime's body," he gasped examining his new servo's, already missing his sword. Suddenly, broken images flickered across his vision, glimpses of a young human female with black hair driving a car along side him as he rammed into her, a smaller mouse of a boy panicking in the seat beside her, and the sting of a blade slicing into his alt modes plating as its owner roared at him against the wind.

"Now I remember," he snarled, clenching his servos as his stabilizers finally obeyed his command. "It was those kids! And the Traitor!" Soundwave was distracted from the mech's increasingly enraged rantings by a sudden chirp. He refocused on the inside of his visor as Laserbeak uploaded a wireless infrared video feed, showing a young woman running across fields and into a forest. He recognized the human as the Wrecker Bulkheads former charge, and saw an opportunity to not only eliminate a potential threat, but obtain a valuable hostage. He approached the rambling Mech, and after stretching up on the tips of his stabilizers, tapped him on the shoulder.

"WHAT?!" He yelled, spewing oil over Soundwave's visor, activating a small wiper he had installed there for that purpose. He then displayed his message.

:Laserbeak has located the Autobots:

"Autobots? Here?!" The mech repeated incredulously, before his face-plates twisted up ward in a hungry grin. "And just in time to test out my new body."

:Negative. Our objective will be to capture the Autobots human companion and utilize her to force our enemies compliance and ensure their noninterference in our operations.: But the revived mech just stared blankly at Soundwave

"Cybertronix please?"

:We're going to threaten the girl's life until her friends give us what we want, and kill her if they get in our way.:

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place?" The mech asked irately crossing his servo's. "This girl got a name?"

:Miko Nakadi:

The mech's face-plates went blank for a nanosecond, then once again twisted back into a horrific predatory grin, and Soundwave made a note for later. Something about the girls name was familiar to him, for better or worse he did not know.

Reason for the expression aside, Soundwave had a sinking feeling in his fuel pump that Motormaster was going to enjoy their upcoming mission a little too much.


	6. Chapter 5: Shadow of Memories

"MIKO! MIKO COME BACK!" But she was gone. Rodney could only watch and stare as Miko vanished into the night like a shadow without a light. He spun around, slamming his fist into the truck and roaring at himself. "IDIOT! You knew bet'r than te tell her!" He banged his head against the trucks body, not noticing the gps display on the trucks dashboard flicker, the pastel colored road map momentarily replaced by a radar like display, tracking a pink blip quickly moving away. Bulkhead struggled; He wanted to close his vehicle modes doors, start the engine and take off after Miko. But if he did that and left Miko's Uncle Rodney standing watching his rented truck drive off by itself there went his cover.

'Slag it,' he thought, 'Miko need you now more than ever. This ain't the time to get cold struts. Now put it in gear and roll your aft ou.' Just then he felt a hand grab his passenger side door, then his driver side door as Rodney climbed back in.

'Scrap,' He muttered, just as Rodney realized Miko had run off with the truck's keys.

* * *

She knew she should go back, stop and turn around. But all she could do was hold the tears back with shut eyes and keep pumping her legs faster. And she kept running until she couldn't hear the feet behind her anymore, and kept running. And running, and running, until finally a root did what a loved ones cries could not.

"OOF!" She grunted as her foot stopped and her momentum carried her forward and down. Her chest smacked into the dry ground knocking the breath from her lungs. She tried to push herself up, propping one elbow under herself then another. But when she placed her left palm on the earth, the dirt gave way under it, and Miko's world started to spin as she herself tumbled end over end through the green and dirt. The memory of her first bicycle accident flashing to the front of her mind, Miko covered her face with her arms only for them to be assaulted and torn at by the underbrush. A rock bashed against her thigh, and her forehead struck a root. None of these stopped her rolling tumble, only changed her course, until she came to rest with a hard hollow thud as the side of her unprotected chest slammed into a tree trunk. Again the wind was forced out of her, but this time she didn't get up, just lay there on her back and started up at the slivers of sky not obscured by the trees.

Miko had always had great night vision, and even with the pain clawing up over her skin and through her bones she could still pick out every single leaf on the trees overhead. Every leaf, every branch...but no stars. Only dark cloud smudged sky.

_"Miko! Miko come on or you'll miss it!" The living ball of nine year old energy did not need to be told twice, leaping up from her seat and leaving the table far behind, even as her grandfather called after her in japanese to come back and finish her turn in their game of mahjong. She darted through the house, skidding and drifting around corners, forcing her grandmother to dodge, flattening herself against the wall as the little girl dashed for the outside. Then she reached the door and ran through it, right into her mothers waiting arms. Mika scooped her daughter up, spun her around then wrapped her in a hug as warm as the summer night around them. _

_"Look Miko," her mother said setting her daughters feet back on the ground and kneeling beside her as she pointed up toward the sky. Miko followed her mothers finger, and saw the sky filled with hundreds upon thousands of tiny lights. Then, one of those pin pricks streaked across the sky, then another, and another, all followed by brilliant glowing tails._

_"Shooting stars!" She cried, awed by the heavenly spectacle. She felt another hand on her other shoulder, a different kind of gentle from her mothers grasp, but to Miko it was no less reassuring. _

_"Thats right Miko," her father said in his reverberating voice, then looked upwards as well. "You can't see them from Tokyo." She yawned, and her head lolled into her mothers chest. She felt her mothers hands on her head, running through her long black hair, then her fingers rubbing her cheek. Her farther smiled and laughed, his eyes never leaving his wife as she dotted on their daughter, nor from Miko as the girl kept her eyes locked on the heavens. _

_"Mommy, Daddy?" She said sleepily in japanese. "Can we stay at Grandma and Grandpa's house forever?" Her mother smiled widely, teeth shining against the night as her husband laughed, a sound that was low and soft that seemed to carry from their gardens all the way across the lakes shimmering glassy surface, through the tree's and up the sides of Mount Nantai and Mount Takayama before vanishing in the heavens. _

Miko didn't bother to brush or blink away the tears. More were on the way.

_"But it wasn't even my fault!" Miko shot back and up, but her Fathers glare never wavered from the thirteen year olds eyes. _

_"One wrong cannot be made right with another Miko," Her father scolded with a hard tone. "That girl had done nothing to provoke you. She was minding her own business."_

_"She was giving Akira a swirly!" Miko fired back just sharply, her fathers defiant fire shining in her eyes. "She and Eri pick on her everyday!" _

_"And now the teachers know of her aggressions," her father finished cutting his daughter off. "It is _their _duty to punish the students that break the rules, _Not yours._" _

_"She got what she deserved," Miko huffed crossing her arms. Her father scoffed, doing the same._

_"Did she? Tell me Miko, how does a wet head and lack of breath compare to a _broken arm_?" Miko said nothing, suddenly very interested in the carpet pattern on the living room floor. "You cannot simply go around hurting people you think are doing wrong by someone you don't even know, or one day, you will hurt the wrong person!" __  
_

_"She still had it coming!" Miko defended, pouting. _

_"All right," her father said darkly, "if that is your mind about it, you can forget about that field trip!" _

_"But Daaaad!" Miko whined, "The whole schools going!" _

_"It seems that will no longer be the case," He said flatly. "Not unless you write Asuka an apology letter." _

_"ITS NOT FAIR!" She yelled, surprisingly loud for a girl her size, "You never let me do what I want to do! You just keep me locked up in here! Like some animal in a cage!"_

_"You know that isn't true! We let you walk across town, with your friends every day for your music lessons." _

_"Piano lessons!" Miko shot back, "I don't even like the piano!"_

_"Well you are certainly not going back to that karate school." Miko just scoffed._

_"Yeah, specially after you put the instructor in the Hospital!" _

_"That was completely different! That little insect got what he deserv." _

_"So did Asuka!" _

_"That's it! Go to your room right now, YOU'RE GROUNDED!"_

_"I HATE YOU!" She stormed off, running through the apartment, slamming the door to her room closed and buried her face in her bed pillow. She didn't stop crying until Her mother brought her dinner later that evening. She told Miko she had talked to her father, and while she still had to write the letter if she wanted to go on the trip, she wasn't grounded. _

_"Sometimes," Her mother said cradling her daughters head agaisnt her chest like she used to do when Miko was little. "People get angry and so caught up in the moment they forget to say what they really mean. Miko you know your father loves you, he's only trying to do what he thinks is best for you." _

But even today Miko knew she had meant every word of it. That was when the rift had started to grow between her and her father, and it had only gotten wider when she transferred to Jasper High. If it hadn't been for her Mother Miko might not have even talked to her father during the school year, and when she came home for summer break, it was her Mom that tricked father and daughter into forgetting about their problems and having fun while they could.

That didn't stop Miko from calling Raf or Ratchet for a quick ground-bridge back to Jasper when her parents were out, which had become more and more often as time went by. Now that she thought about it, Miko remembered her parents had been spending a lot of time away from home that summer, the same year she'd been named an honorary Wrecker.

_"She, she'd been sick fer a long time, but she didn't want you to worry..."_

Why hadn't her mom told her she was sick? Why did she keep it a secret from her until ...

It was no use, Miko couldn't stop the streams running down her face to the earth. Her Mom was gone, gone forever. She would never kiss and hug her goodnight again, never laugh with her while they ate lunch at Sushi Saito and watched the people at the embassy. She would never see her smile again when she showed her her new pictures of Jack and Raf and all the places she had visited. She'd never hear her tell her, "I love you," ever again. Miko closed her eyes and realized she was sobbing.

Never again.

She hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

"ITS NOT FAIR!" She roared, slamming her fist into the damp earth, hot angry stinging tears flowing freely. "You should have told me! Why?! Why did you keep THIS of all things a secret?!" Her vision was starting to blur, but she still heard the familiar clicking and whirring clear as day. "Bulkhead?" She called, lifting herself slowly upright, her upper body seeming to weigh tons. "Hello?" She asked between sniffles. The forest was quiet, asleep and resting. Miko raised her right hand over her eyes to improve her vision, but everything was pitch black around her.

Everything except her hand.

"What the?" She gasped, holding her hand before her face. Her skin on her forearm had split apart like a car's sunroof, coming out then back, exposing a mass of shining deep purple metal streaked with glowing pink circuits that she could only assume was her hand, now looking more like the business end of a double barrel shotgun. He turned the metallic mass over looking at her, "arm" from all angles, and she actually caught herself laughing a little, but it was a hollow and terrified sound.

"This isn't happening," he mumbled to herself, but no matter how she tried she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen this before. A long, long time ago.

_"Mommy Mommy!" She ran up to her mother, who had just come home from work._

_"Oof, hello Miko," her Mom said as the energetic three year old's hug-tackle winded her. _

_"Come on!" Miko cheered, positively elated. Her Mom just had to see what she had found out!_

_"Slow down," Her mother called even as Miko raced back into the apartments tiny living room. "What is it?" _

_"I wanna show you something!" She smiled, adjusting the range carefully. Her Mother looked surprised when she came into the living room and saw her daughters set up._

_"Miko.." She started, "Why are the cooking pots on top of the couch?" _

_"So I can see them better!" She smiled excitedly, standing across the room from the range. "Now watch me hit them!" She raised her arm, open palm aimed at the pots with her tongue stuck out and one eye closed, concentrating as hard as she could. _

_"Oh," her mother cooed probably thinking she was playing pretend again, "okay, let me get something from." Suddenly Miko's arm unfolded in a flurry of clicks and whirs, firing two glowing pink blasts right through the largest pot. _

_"YES!" She cheered, throwing her arms up in victory, right arm still transformed and turned to her mother with big proud eyes. "Did you see that Mommy?" Miko couldn't have felt better, she had finally learned to do something all by herself! But her mother just stood there, speechless._

"But, ... they told me it was a dream," She said, looking at her hand. Dream or not, there was no denying the fact that the blaster from her dream and her hands current form were one and the same. Come to think of it, how in the world did she get it to...

BaOW!

"IEE!" She yelped when her gun arm suddenly fired a shot into the air. She watched the glowing pink round arc up through and over the trees, before detonating like a roman candle, sparking and lighting up the sky just as it fizzled out. Miko started after it, when a blinking light on her arm caught her eye. The red light was fro ma meter of some kind with a tiny red bar flashing as if warning her. Without warning her arm returned to its normal appearance, metal parts shifting and folding in as her skin slide back into place. Holding it close to her face, Miko realized she could now see thin lines tracing along the joints of her hand and wrist, kind a like the armor on Bulkheads hand.

That's when it clicked. She shifting pieces, the glowing lines, the sound her arm had made. It hadn't shifted. It _T__ransformed_!

"Oh-ho man," Miko said holding her head, not knowing whether to once again breakdown in tears, freak out or start running around screaming at the top of her lungs how cool this was. Miko suddenly realized she didn't feel very cool at the moment, and her world tipped slightly. Shaking off the dizzy spell, she looked around through heavy eye lids for some sign of civilization. Then, squinting her eyes, she saw something in the distance, like two pillars holding up two more. She put her shaky feet under her, and walked toward the shape, past trees and bamboos as her feet meshed into the soft mosses and brushed past ferns.

Slowly, the shapes became more defined. It was a torii, a wooden gate placed at the entrance of shinto shrines. Miko vaguely remembered they were supposed to mark a shift, but between what she didn't know. She knew she was tired, and that there was a stone path leading up the hill just beyond the torii. So she started walking, footfalls echoing through the forest around her, but between the increasing nausea and exhaustion she was too out of it to register anything but the path in front of her.

She didn't hear the soft clink of three hooked metal claws on stone as another being stepped onto the path behind her.


	7. Chapter 6: More Questions than Answers

"And you're sure nothing else is missing?" Fowler asked, panic buried under a flat authority he had groomed while mediating between the Autobots and the government.

"Positive," Jack said, leaning on the catwalk railing with the ground-bridge projector behind him. "Aside from every piece of glass on the base being shattered, nothing but the bunker was touched." Fowler sighed through a mounting headache, desperately craving a cup of coffee to keep awake.

"Then He knew what he was after," the Director said grimly.

"You sure it was Soundwave?"

"Who else could it be?" Fowler knew Mech was a possibility, but ever since their leader was crossed off by the Cons the whole organization had crumbled. They no longer had the coordination or the resources to pull of something like this. And there were no foot prints or tire tracks leading away from the bunker, so that could only mean one thing; A ground-bridge. He looked at Jack and asked, "Did you tell Rafael to start the program?"

"Yes," Agent Darby answered, knowing what His boss was thinking. "All satellites are scanning the planet for unregistered energon signatures. If he bridges anywhere on earth, we'll know about it."

"Director Fowler," Ratchet said calling the former Agent over to another part of the catwalk. After a quick nod to Jack, Fowler walked over to the Autobot as the young agent went to another part of the hangar. "Director," the medic said sternly, "I know what you plan to do, and I must protest." But Fowler didn't budge.

"You and Rafael are the only ones I trust to operate the ground-bridge, and Mr. Esquivel is the only person in a hundred miles who knows how to work the programs we have tracking Ole Faceless."

"But Jack."

"Is not the scared kid he was when you found him. He's older, faster, and a slag of a lot smarter than he was back then, not to mention he'll have a full squad of Uncles Sam's best operatives following him in."

"He's still not ready to lead a team against a decepticon, let alone Soundwave!" But Fowler just crossed his arms and glared up at the medic.

"Optimus thought he was ready." That caught Ratchet off guard, reminding him of the last Prime's unwavering confidence of the boy's potential. Ratchet knew he himself had complemented numerous times how much like Orion Pax Jack was. Now the boy was grown, and already more like Optimus in character than Ratchet had ever anticipated.

"Very well," He relented, "But if the boy runs into trouble we will contact Bulkhead and Miko."

"Agreed," Fowler compromised, just as Raf ran into the hangar, sweating and heaving for breath.

"I GOT A READING!" he shouted, stopping every other person in the massive room cold. "Massive, *pant* Energon spike," he said doubling over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath as Jack ran up beside the teen and helped him stay standing.

"Easy Raf, deep breaths," Jack said with a hand on the computer genius's back to help him breath. He glanced up as Fowler himself ran over to the former charges with one word on his lips.

"Where?"

"Honshu," Raf gasped, "north of Tokyo." The Director looked at Jack, his face stern and stone like, and the young Agent anticipated his next words.

"I'll get the others," he said, but Fowler stopped him.

"No time. I'll round up the strike team, you get down to storage and mount up. And Jack!" He called as the young man started to run off, and tossed him a small silver plate. Catching it, Jack saw it was a metal badge bearing an insignia that was somewhere between a simplified version of the Autobot symbol and Optimus Primes helmet and battle mask. "Wouldn't want leave Faceless confused about who he's up against now would we?"

* * *

The first thing Miko saw when she woke up, was a stream of water, like a miniature waterfall falling into a square stone pool. As she blinked away the sleep at the corners of her eyes and her vision focused, she saw the water was flowing from the open mouth of a carved stone dragon. Miko moved to sit up but stopped, feeling the blanket wrapped around her.

"What," She wondered out loud, standing as she pulled the fabric from her shoulders. An ache permeated her entire left side, only serving to remind Miko of last nights sleeping arrangements. She looked up, and judging by the sun's position it was at least eight or nine in the morning. Come to think of it, how did she even get here? She glanced around, noticing the row of wooden shinto temple buildings behind and gardens laid out around her and the fountain statue.

"How are you feeling?" Miko spun to face the voice, a reflex from her time with the Wreckers, only to find the smiling wrinkled face of an old woman in long blue traditional japanese robes looking at her from atop the shrine steps. She was small and aged, her skin denoting a pure Asian descent as did her facial features. Her gray hair was pulled back in a low bun, while her eyes shone with a wise twinkling gleam as she held herself up on a smooth bamboo cane.

"Uh, not bad," Miko half lied, looking at the fountain and statue that fed it. "I've had softer beds though."

"I should hope so," The woman laughed walking down the steps and hobbling over to Miko's side. She smiled when she noticed the young girls gaze upon the statue. "That is Ryujin, ruler of the Sea and Tides. It is said in legend," She said taking on a teacher like tone, "That his power comes from four jewels, and that he was the great grandfather of the first Emperor of Japan."

"Hm, yeah cool," Miko said dismissively, more focused on the issue at hand. "Uh listen Mrs..."

"Otohime," She said smiling in the way grandparents do that make children remember their manners. Miko gave a quick bow, one Otohime returned as well as her cane would allow.

"Miko Nakadi," She said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Nakadi," The elderly woman said, still smiling.

"You too, now um, how exactly did I get here?," Miko asked looking around the small shrine. Otohime shrugged.

"The same as everyone I suspect. You walked." Miko stifled a groan, the old woman already reminding her of Ratchet. "You must have wandered into the shrine sometime before midnight last night," Otohime said walking around Miko to the other side of the fountain. "I found you this morning about," She paused for a moment, trying to remember, "Five or six o'clock. You must have been very tired after your swim."

"Swim?"

"You were soaking wet," she clarified, "I gave you a blanket to help you dry off. Seems to have worked." She said, making Miko examine her dry clothing for any proof of the womans story. Finding none, Miko began to suspect Otohime was more than a little off her rocker. She looked back to the woman, only to see she had moved to the opposite side of the fountain from her, quickly too considering her cane.

"It is said," She remarked examining the serpentine body of the dragon statue, "that Ryujin was a master of magic, and that he lived in a magnificent palace beneath the waves, one made of corals as white as snow and red as blood. He fathered the goddess that this shrine honors." The mention of parentage brought Miko's grief back in force, and it was everything she could do to keep from loosing herself again in front of a complete stranger.

"Mrs. Otohime," Miko as respectfully as she could through the tidal wave of emotions. "Thank you so much for your hospitality."

"Are you hungry?" She asked, as if not having heard her, "I just put on a pot of miso soup."

"No thank you. I really need to get back to the road. I sort of, well."

"Ah, I see," Otohime said hobbling up to the younger girl with a wistful look in her eyes. "Young people today are always going. Going nowhere too often if you ask me. But you my girl," she spoke as her tone took on a more mystical quality. "You _are_ going somewhere. Somewhere very important."

"Uh, thanks," Miko said nervously, now certain the woman was soft in the head.

"The road is just down that path," Otohime said pointing across the shrine gardens with her cane. "It will take you where you must go."

"Sure, oh and thank you again," Miko said before bowing respectfully. "It was nice meeting you."

"And an Honor to meet you, Miko," Otohime said bowing herself. "Now you best get going. Wouldn't want to keep your friends waiting would you?" Miko nodded and began to walk toward the path, when Otohime called to her again. "Oh I forgot the most important part of the story! It is said that though Ryujin's natural form was a dragon, his preferred form was that of a man. Not unlike your friend." That stopped Miko dead in her tracks.

'Is she talking about?' She decided to ask the old woman what she meant, and turned around with the question on her lips, but when she did, the woman was gone. Taking only a moment to search for her with her eyes, Miko quickly turned back to the path, even as a pair of soft orange optics watched her from deep within the shrine.

She followed the path as it weaved through the trees on its way downhill, and found her mind wandering into doubt. What was going to happen to her family now? For as long as she could remember her Mom had been the glue that held them all together. Miko fought nearly constantly with her Dad, Her Father and Uncle never really liked each other, and it didn't take a genius to see her grandfather reserved a unique ire for her Dad.

'Oh God,' Miko thought, and inwardly kicked and cursed her selfishness, both in thought and action. Last night she had only thought of her Mom's death in terms of herself, and like a spoiled child she had run away from a family member who was in just as much pain as she was. Of Lord, and her Father! Miko knew how much her parents had loved each other, and without Mom she didn't even want to imagine what grief was doing to her Father.

The screeching of tires snapped her back to the moment, and Miko realized she could see a small parking lot at the end of the path. Running through the stone torii marking the end and start of the path, she barely glanced the planted and moss covered gateway. She was entirely focused on the massive green truck that was dominating the tiny disused parking lot, and the man climbing down from its driver-side and running toward her even as the familiar sound of a diesel engine roared up the nearby road.

"STREAKS!" Rodney cried as he and Miko ran into a relieved hug. "Oh thank God, I thought you'd fallen off a bridge somewhere. Thank God that gps was on de fritz!" Miko said nothing, now at the mercy of her emotions and cried into her Uncles shoulder. "Its all right Miko, its gonna be all right."

Bulkhead felt his spark break as tears flowed from Miko's eyes, but the last thing he wanted to do was put her on the spot by having to explain a giant transforming robot to her Uncle. But just as his resolve ceased to waver, something caught his optic. A quick adjustment of his door mirrors let him see the road behind him, and Bulkhead felt his energon run cold.

"MIKO LOOK OUT!" Miko felt her uncle jump.

"What the heck?!"

Rodney's question died when a black and purple semi truck rammed through the iron poles separating the parking lot from the road, and drove full speed straight at the humans. Miko barely had time to recognize the Decepticon symbol on the trucks grill when she felt herself shoved to the side.

"NO!" She screamed, her Uncle vanishing beneath the truck, only to reappear a split second later, lying with his back flat on the ground. He opened one eye and looked around.

"Heh, now dats a close shave," he said nervously, shaking like a leaf in-spite of his quip as Miko helped him up, even as they heard the truck drift through an about face. It stood there, engine revving and growling as it threatened to charge. Miko knew they wouldn't be able to dodge or duck this time, and the memory of last nights revelation sprung to mind when suddenly the truck squalled its tires and charged. But before Miko could act.

"RAAAAHHH!" Bulkhead body slammed the semi, ramming his shoulder into its side like a linebacker. The truck slid sideways for a moment then stopped, tires smoking as it fought to shove the wrecker off. Bulkhead shifted his left servo to his mace, and started pummeling the semi's hood and windshield. One of his hits must have connected, because the trucks tires stopped spinning. But then he heard plating and armor begin to shift. Bulkhead wasted no time. He grabbed the truck by the cab and front bumper, lifted it up and hurled it like a log end over end into the trees even as the truck shifted out of vehicle mode.

Bulkhead stood there, vents cycling furiously to cool his overheated systems, then cringed. He slowly turned around and looked back and down to where Miko's Uncle was staring up at him with an open mouth and wide eyes.

"Uhhh, Hi?" Bulkhead stumbled nervously. The autobots voice seemed to knock Rodney out of his stupor, and to his credit the man stumbled for only a moment before steadying himself.

"Miko," He started to say but the girl cut him off.

"Okay I know how this looks, but believe it or not I can explain everything!" Suddenly the sound of rending wood and fleeing wildlife filled the air, and Bulkhead turned to face the oncoming storm. But instead of bringing out his mace, Bulkhead transformed and opened both his front doors.

"Get in NOW!" He barked, console flashing.

"What?!" Miko shrieked, certain her partner could take the Con, but without warning Her uncle grabbed her hand and pulled her to the truck.

"Listen to the guy Miko!" he said shoving her bodily into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut and running around the car to the other side.

"What is wrong with you guys?!" Miko asked as she tried to open the door, but Bulkhead had already locked it, and did the same when Rodney threw himself inside, as the tree's and ground outside began to shake. Miko saw her Uncle look out the window, and for the first time in her life saw pure terror written over his face as he looked to Bulkheads console.

"What are you waiting for ya overgrown golf kart?! GO GO GO!" Both riders were thrown back in their seats as Bulkhead took off, swerving through the broken barriers and onto the main road, just as Motormaster forced his way through the tree's. He snarled when he saw the fleeing Autobot, and ran toward the road, transforming mid stride the moment his pedes hit tarmac.

* * *

**Authors Note: **

**I am cruel aren't I? A little mystery and just a snippit of action before I leave you on a cliff hanger! I know its a bad habit but its one I'd like to think I've perfected. And I promise, the next chapter will be all action. **

**P.S. The badge Fowler gave jack is meant to be the G2 Autobot symbol.**


	8. Chapter 7: King of the Road

**Okay here goes. I've been keeping track of the reviews the other chapters have been getting and frankly I'm a little more than flattered. I can't help it, sue me. The biggest thing that got me was the comments on how well the plot flows. Well, here things get a little, "jerky" if you ask me. Maybe its cause of the secrets the characters hint at but only half tell or maybe I'm just not that good at action sequences in general. Here's hoping its not the latter. Of course I regard this as the weakest of all my stories I've posted online so in the end I really don't know what I'm doing here, only that I'm doing something right.**

**A little tech note: The bike Jack's riding is based on a combination of the Kawasaki J Concept and the Batpod from The Dark Knight. **

* * *

Miko could only stare as her Uncle stared through Bulkheads rear window, obviously watching for their attacker. Bulkhead's console display showed a tracking radar, and a purple decepticon symbol slowly closing in from behind them.

"Think we lost him?" Rodney asked.

"Not a chance," Bulkhead said, making the man in his driver seat jump nearly out of his skin.

"God I hate it when they do dat," he mumbled to himself, before turning to Miko. "And you! You are in BIG trouble Missy!"

"ME!" Miko skrieked, hurting Bulkheads audios. "You're the one thats been holding out!"

"What in the name of my great aunt Alice are you TALKING ABOUT?!"

"I'm not an idiot Okay! I saw how you reacted to Bulkhead's bot mode!" Miko's eyes narrowed. "You _recognized_ It! That means you've seen Autobots before!"

"Look I get it you're ticked, but right now we got bigger problems dan."

"Bigger Than THIS?!" Miko shouted, holding up her arm as it shifted to blaster mode and her eyes shifted from amber to glowing green. Bulkheads optics shot to the size of his tires while once again Miko noted, Her uncle was less than shocked.

"Ah crud, of all de times," he groaned, looking back to check the road an at the same time avoid the girls eyes. "Look I know you gots a ton of questions, but right now we really DO have BIGGER PROBLEMS!" Miko looked back, only to see the black and purple semi coming up behind them, close enough that Miko could see for certain there was no one behind the wheel. Bulkhead took one look back as the other truck closed in, then scanned the surrounding tree's and took a detour.

"Hey, WHOA!" Rodney yelped when the autobot suddenly swerved right and bolted down a row of power line towers. "What the frak was that for?!"

"Sorry," Bulkhead said even as the road took a turn for the bumpy, sending Miko and her Uncle bouncing in their seats. "Had to put some distance between us and the Big-rig." Miko looked back and could now barely see the black truck turn onto the grassy lane behind them, only to transform into robot mode and start running after them.

"So what are you waiting for Bulk?!" Miko asked, "Call Ratchet for a ground-bridge and get us out of here!"

"I've been trying!" The wrecker barked back, "Somethings jamming all the comm frequencies!" Rodney turned back around in his seat, only to see a dark blue Reaper drone diving straight at them.

"HIT THE DECK!" He grabbed Miko and yanked her down below Bulkheads console just as a sonic pulse shattered the windshield and windows.

"Gah! Scrap," Bulkhead swore, swerving slightly with the blasts force, glaring up as Soundwave passed by overhead. "Well," he said grimly, "That explains that." Rodney shook his head, trying to stop the ringing in his ears as Miko did the same.

"What the heck is Soundwave doing here?!" She asked, looking between Bulkheads console and her uncle. "HOW is he even here?!"

"Who cares?!" Rodney shot back, "I'm more worried about where he's goin!." Miko leaned forward and saw Soundwave banking back around for another attack run even as the pede falls of their pursuer grew louder. Bulkhead swore, instead of loosing the Con all he had done was drive straight into a trap.

"Hang on!" He yelled, increasing their speed even as the road became even rougher. "I'm gonna make a break for the freeway!" Miko could tell her uncle didn't like this idea.

"ARE YOU INSANE!?" He shouted looking back, "we won't stand a chance on the open road!" Miko paused for a split second; she thought it was Nemesis Prime chasing them, but now she was sure her Uncle recognized the new Decepticon. Her pause ended when Soundwave streaked past again, blasters spewing laser bolts at Bulkheads open windows. Again Miko and her uncle ducked as Bulkhead's armor took the punishment.

"You got a better Idea?" The wrecker asked, "Because I would really like to hear it!" His gps pinged a new direction and Bulkhead swore again. "Hold on tight!"

"We're all gonna diiiieeeeeeee!" Rodney screamed as Bulkhead pinned him and Miko in their seat with a hard right drift, darting off the open row of towers and down a narrower path and up a hill, only to be launched up into the air and land right in the middle of an expressway. The rush hour commuters swerved and honked at him, but Bulkhead took no notice, blending into traffic as well as he could and looking for any sign of the Cons. Miko looked out of the autobots shattered windows, scanning the skies and road behind them.

"I think we lost em." But her uncle was less than pleased.

"Oh dis is jus GREAT! We're on a toll road!" But Bulkhead ignored him.

"Miko, any sign of Soundwave?"

"Uh, nope," She said looking around, just as a group of cars to their left had their windows blown in. Miko snapped her head back and muttered her own curse. Soundwave was on their tail and closing fast. It seemed the Cons weren't worried about maintaining cover anymore. But just as she thought things couldn't get any worse.

"Heads up!" Her uncle yelled, pointing to the tree's on the hillside above the freeway. Suddenly the black-purple semi former burst through the tree line, vaulting clear over Bulkhead and transforming in mid air. But not before Miko got a good look at his optics, hollow purple on black optics that only contained burning rage and hatred. The Con crashed into the roadway behind them on all six tires, rubber screaming in fury as the chase resumed. Rodney looked back toward the truck and groaned, not having learned the lesson Miko had just seconds ago.

"Can dis day get any worse?" The moment he said that, a ground-bridge portal opened up right in front of them, and Bulkhead instinctively swerved left to miss it. He passed the portal, just as a motorcycle and its rider raced out of it and into the freeway.

* * *

He heard the portal close behind him, but Jack didn't even have time to let his gray helmets HUD scan for energon signatures when he saw a windowless Bulkhead speed by him with two passengers inside. He gunned the throttle to catch up, his bikes grey and silver frame lowering and elongating to let the air slip by easier as the single hollow back wheel and the two front forced the compacted frame faster. It wasn't like riding with Arcee, but was more concerned about helping his friends than how his new ride handled. He was nearly front axles to bumper with Bulkhead, when his HUD blared an attack warning to his right. He braked, laser blasts hitting the pavement where he would have been.

He looked up, glaring at the Decepticon Communications officer as the flier banked away and circled back behind him. Jack throttled up and switching on the bikes weapons systems, doing an about face and turning back into oncoming traffic. The best thing he could do right now was knock Soundwave out of the picture, or at least distract him long and thoroughly enough to open up the comms for a few seconds. He jerked and swerved through the lanes of motorists coming right at him, until the traffic mercifully let up, just in time to see Soundwave flying low back toward Bulkhead. He flicked his bike left and hit the brakes, letting the back tire spin and swing around 180 before Jack gunned the engine, now on Soundwaves tail.

Thumbing the trigger, Jack sent a burst up at Soundwave, more to get his attention than anything. It worked, Soundwave throttled down and dropped back. Right behind Jack.

"Scrap!" He swore, yanking his bike right as Soundwave began pouring laser fire down at him. He hit the gas, and surged forward. A quick glance at his hud confirmed Soundwave was now chasing him. Now came the tricky part; keeping Soundwave's focus on him without getting killed.

* * *

Bulkhead meanwhile was dealing with his own problems. He had to dodge left and right constantly to avoid hitting the cars around and in front of him, only for the Decepticon truck-former chasing them to ram or run them off the road without hesitation. Rodney continued looking back through Bulkheads shattered windows, disbelief and terror clear in his features.

"He's getting bigger!" Rodney yelled in panic as Bulkhead swerved around another van.

"You don't think I know that already!?" Bulkhead snapped, only for his passenger to snap back.

"I told you the freeway was suicide!" He yelled, ducking down as the semi rammed a car off the road causing it to explode in a fireball. The explosion set off a massive pileup behind the charging semi, and before anyone knew it the lanes had almost cleared. "We gotta get outta here and loose him!" Rodney said just as the semi's front slammed into Bulkheads tailgate. Miko held onto her seat for dear life as the Semi slammed them again and again, trying for force Bulkhead to loose control. Then the corner of her eye found the gps display, and more importantly, a tunnel up ahead.

"Thats it!" Bulkhead grunted as the semi former bumped him again, "Hold onto something we're going off road!"

"NO don't!" Miko said suddenly, "Keep going!"

* * *

"SCRAP!" Jack cursed, hitting the brakes to avoid slamming into the wall of wrecked cars. He could only assume the flaming wall of metal was because of whoever was chasing Miko and Bulk. That made two, so now the pileup had him walled in, and he couldn't help the others. "Ratchet," he called activating his comm link, "Ratchet do you read me?!" But all he got was static, and before Jack could even think his name the static's cause hit the pavement behind him. He twisted around in his seat, looking back as Soundwave loomed over him, flames painting vivid colors and reflections across his visor.

"Hey Soundwave," Jack said in a nervous laugh, "been a while. You're not still mad about the whole shadow zone thing right?" Soundwaves only response was to draw and aim his resonance blaster, replaying the agents previous words.

":_still mad_:" He blasted the pavement, but Jack somehow vaulted back and out of the blast. Soundwave looked up, only to get a burst of gunfire to his face. He turned his now cracked visor to face the weapon's wielder, and for a nanosecond couldn't believe his optics. There stood Jack, now considerably taller and clad in slightly dull silver and grey armor, now standing with his head even with Soundwave's abdomen. He quickly realized the humans motorcycle had transformed into a primitive combat suit, evidenced by the wheels at his ankles, and the larger rear tire on his back. His narrow shoulders sported winglets like his former guardian, while his forearms brandished a pair of human machine guns, and a hidden melee weapon of some sort he suspected.

"Whats the matter Soundwave?" Jack goaded, "speechless?" Soundwave fired a sonic pulse, one jack barely dodged with a diving roll. The Agent threw himself upright, aiming and firing both his arm guns at the Con comm officer. Soundwave actually had to shield his fractured visor, discovering quickly the rounds were armor piercing and dangerously effective. But he was still the more experienced fighter by eons. Using his arms to shield his head, he used his cables to aim the resonance blaster. Jack didn't have time to react, as a pulse caught him dead center of the chest plates, sending him crashing across the roadway into the guard wall.

"UHH!" he grunted, his back slamming into the concave wall, sliding down into a heap as Soundwave stalked over. He aimed his resonance blaster at Jack's still spinning head, then spotted the badge adorning the humans left chest plate and repeated the only words he'd ever heard the con speak.

"**Soundwave Superior, Autobots Inferior.**" Jack groaned, but just as Soundwave charged his blaster, the human raised his arm and shot it out of his servo. Soundwave watched the relic clatter away, then spun to face the human, certain the fleshing was smirking behind his helmet.

"Soundwave, talks too much." The faceless con snarled silently, cracked visor flashing red. His cables shot out, pinning the agents arms to the wall, as he shifted his right servo to his dagger. He raised the blade to Jack's head, and the agent felt his training kick in. Time seemed to slow, as Soundwave lunged forward, blade tip aimed for the middle of Jack's helmet. He disengaged the locks holding his left gauntlet to the rest of his armor, letting him jerk right. Soundwaves blades missed his eye by centimeters, shattering his visor and cutting a deep gash down the side of his helmet before burying itself in the wall. Jack smirked, not realizing he was now bleeding from his left ear.

"Missed." He engaged his suits speed mode, the wheels on his ankles shifting down onto his feet and started spinning. Unprepared to stop the humans sudden momentum, Soundwave lost his grip, as Jack was thrown up the curved wall right over the Cons head. Landing in a crouch, Jack twirled around to face his enemy, and immediately ducked back down as Soundwave swung his cables like whips. Frankly it was getting annoying. "Again with the tentacles!" Jack gripped, jumping back to dodge another cable whip. "Do you even realize what country we're in?!"

Soundwave said nothing, retracted his cables then transformed his left servo into a blaster and started firing.

* * *

_"Thats it!" Bulkhead grunted as the semi former bumped him again, "Hold onto something we're going off road!"_

_"NO don't!" Miko said suddenly, "Keep going!"_

Her uncle's reaction was expected.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" He screamed, before another jolt from behind threw him forward in his seat, "He's gonna splatter us like bugz if we don't get off da road!"

"Trust me!" Miko said, curling her legs under her into her seat, "I've got an idea!"

"We're all gonna die," Rodney muttered as Miko crawled into the back seat, pushing her luggage aside and leaning out the back driver side window.

"HEY! Scrap head!" She shouted back at the semi, much to Bulkheads annoyance.

"Miko what are you doing?!"

"Trust me Bulk!" She shouted back. "Yeah you! Is that all you got?! A few cheap back shots, LAAAAME! What are you scared?!" Rodney's eyes were bugging out of his skull now, and he honestly thought Miko had a death wish. His panic only grew when the semi shouted back.

"SCARED?!" It screamed in a voice like a chainsmoker, "you want scared?! I'LL SHOW YOU SCARED!" He pulled left and throttled up, pulling up right along side Bulkhead.

"Well," Rodney said in more of panic than snark, "Good news is he ain't behind us no more. Bad news is." The semi slammed into them broadside, forcing Bulkhead sideways across two lanes before he could stop himself. "DIS IS WORSE!" Bulkhead ground his denta together as the truck former slammed into him again, denting plating and damaging a swath of internals. He turned his mirrors toward Miko, now firmly planted in the backseat.

"Whatever you're gonna do Miko!" He grunted as the semi forced him across another lane, putting them one away from the guard barrier. "You better do it fast!"

"Come on," She mumbled watching the road ahead, until finally the two tunnel portals appeared ahead of them. "YES!" She glanced toward the semi, just as another blow jolted her in her seat. Bulkhead could only guess what Miko had planned, and gunned it as hard as he could. The Con stayed with them of course, running right alongside as they drove into the tunnel.

Miko shifted her arm to blaster mode, silently praying she could make it work a second time. She leaned her torso out the window, hanging from the dented roof, but dove back inside just before the Semi splattered her against her former guardian. Then, as the semi pulled away for another slam, Miko made her move. Sticking her head and arm outside, she aimed for a seam in the tunnel ceiling panels overhead and in front of them, her mind moving so fast she didn't register a set of cross hairs appearing in her vision, targeting the seam. A pause for timing, an instinctive thought, and a pink bolt fired up from her arm.

The shot vaporized the clamps holding the end of the panel in place, dropping the metal plate down onto the road, right in the Semi's path. Bulkhead pushed everything he had left into his wheels, barely pulling ahead as the ramp upended the Semi's left side and sent it tumbling end over end, causing the other panles to fall like dominoes .

"YES!" Miko yelled as the Con vanished in a cloud of dust and twisted metal, her uncle doing the same.

"YEA-HAH! Take DAT!" he whooped in victory, "Who's king of the road now,MOTORBREATH!?" They exited the tunnel, feeling invincible, only for their ride to grind to a halt.

* * *

Jack dodged left again, his heel tires boosting his speed while the suit enhanced his reflexes. Even so he was just barely avoiding Soundwaves blaster fire, and it was everything he could do to keep the Con away from the resonance blaster with his guns. But soon he'd run out of ammo and have to fight hand to hand. He dived behind a smoking van, aiming through the charred windows only to hear a click when he fired.

"Scrap!" he swore, just before his legs were ripped out from under him. He struggled to free his ankles of the cable, but before he could, the car he had hid behind was thrown aside like a toy. Soundwave towered over the agent, chest heaving as his vents cycled furiously. Jack felt Soundwaves other cable wrap around his torso and start to squeeze, grinding the suits plating together and into his abdomen. He shut his eyes and ground his teeth, determined not to give Soundwave the satisfaction of a scream. Then he saw a flash of blue green light, but the pain denied him a smirk. Instead he just looked at the faceless Con's cracked visor, sounding every bit the defeated opponent.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked grimly, "Finish it." Jack pictured him wearing a sadistic smile as Soundwave traded his blaster for his dagger and keyed a single word over his fractured visor.

":Gladly:" He raised the blade and aimed for the humans heart, when suddenly he felt two more blades run his shoulder actuators through.

"I'm sorry," Ratchet grunted as he twisted his scalpels further into Soundwaves shoulders. "But this patient is under my care." Jack swung his right gauntlet, the short serrated blade extending as it sliced through the constricting cables, freeing him of Soundwaves grasp. "And I'm afraid," Ratchet huffed raising Soundwave up into the air, "visiting hours are OVER!" With one heave he swung the con around, the force of the spin slinging Soundwave across the ruined freeway.

He tried to lift himself up, but his shoulders were too damaged to hold his weight. He lifted his head, noticing the resonance blaster lying closeby, but also the Autobot medic and his human pet closing in on him. Seeing the tide had turned, Soundwave wrapped his still energon leaking cables around the resonance blaster and transformed into his UAV mode.

"NO!" Ratchet cried, frantically firing as Soundwave jetted past them. He kept firing after the fleeing Con but it was no use, Soundwave was already out of range.

* * *

Bulkhead opened his doors, groaning painfully.

"Bulkhead?!" Miko cried jumping out and running around as her Uncle got out as well. "Whats wrong?"

"Yeah," her uncle asked as the wrecker transformed into a kneel. "Why ain't we still running?!" Bulkhead could only pant as his vents labored to cool his overheated vitals. Miko saw why; his tires were shredded, and the metal connecting them to his frame was red hot and smoking.

"Just *pant* give me a *gasp* minute," He wheezed, leaving out the part where his whole body hurt like the pit. But then from behind them.

"What a coincidence." Miko and her uncle turned to face the voice, a black and purple doppelganger of Optimus prime walking out of the dust clouded tunnel portal. "Thats precisely how long you have left to live Autobot," he sneered pounding his fists together as Bulkhead forced himself upright.

"That voice," he groaned, turning to the dust covered Con. "I know that voice." He fixed his optics on the prime look alike, not fooled by the new body. "_Motormaster_." The Stunticon leader's sneer grew, battle mask retracting to reveal his misshapen vocalizer.

"In the metal _Wrecker_." Bulkhead activated his cannon and tried to aim it, but Motormaster's Path Blaster was quicker. He shot Bulkhead in the arm, staggering him before a headshot knocked him on his back.

"BULKHEAD!" Miko cried rushing over to her guardian, only for a blast from Motormaster to shatter and liquefy the pavement in front of her.

"Don't even think about it," He growled walking up to the humans, his gun trained on Miko, but his optics were locked on her uncle. "Well well," he said in a dark sing song tone as he loomed over Rodney. "Look what the _Rat_ dragged in." He shifted his free servo to a sword, dropping down to one knee and keeping his pathblaster trained on Miko, the tip of his sword millimeters away from Rodney's face. "There's a good little fleshling. Now, tell me," Motormaster smiled sadistically before suddenly exploding in anger. "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"Where are who?" Rodney asked causally, resulting in the blade coming even closer to his face.

"Don't play dumb with me fleshy! I know you know where they are! TELL ME!" He roared, only for Rodney to roar back.

"And when I don't?!" The Stunticon growled, aiming both blaster and sword at him.

"Then I'll ask you one last time, BEFORE I SPLATTER YOUR ORGANIC PULP ALL OVER THE ROAD! WHERE!? IS!? DYNA**GAAH**!" Burning plasma singed his right audio sensor. Motormaster recoiled, sword servo flying to to his helm where the blaster shot had hit his helm and destroyed the antenna on that side. He snarled and whirled around, expecting to see the Wrecker aiming his blaster. Instead he saw the human girl aiming a scatter blaster at him. But it was the shade of glowing green her eyes had turned that made him connect the dots.

"Son of a Glitch," he gasped, just as a ground-bridge portal opened in mid air behind them. Motormaster spun on his heel strut, training both blasters on the portal as a white muscle car with green and red accents drove out, transforming in mid air to land a kick to the truck-formers damaged helm. Motormaster faltered as his attacker rolled over him and landed in a crouch.

"Wheeljack," He laughed, battle mask engaging as he traded his blasters for swords, "And here I thought this solar cycle couldn't get any better." The Wrecker just smirked behind his own mouth guard.

"Well then its you're lucky day decepticreep!" Motormaster was only confused for a nanosecond, before a massive winged shadow passed over him, and a primal roar filled the sky.

* * *

Soundwave had only been in the air long enough to climb high enough to avoid radar detection when his sensors picked up a new set of autobot and predacon energy signatures. He bit back a curse and opened a comm link.

* * *

Motormaster was still staring down Wheeljack when the text appeared across his vision.

:The situation has changed. We no longer have the numerical or combat advantage. Disengage and retreat.: The stunticon leader ground his vocalizer behind his battle-mask, then shifted his blades to blasters and fired at the ground in front of Wheeljack.

The Wrecker sprinted forward, but by the time he passed through the smoke, Motormaster's taillights were vanishing through a closing ground-bridge. But the disappointment was short lived.

"BULK!" He cried rushing over to his fellow Wrecker and checking his vitals. He was barely online and verging on stasis-lock. "Ratchet, Ratchet!" he called anxiously, hoping Soundwave was no longer jamming the comms. "Ratchet are you there?!" For a moment static, and then...

"I copy Wheeljack," The medic answered, "Whats your status?"

"Bulkhead's down and he's hurt bad! I need a ground-bridge, A-Sap!"

"Roger, send your coordinates to Rafael. I'll prepare sickbay."

"STREAKS!" The sudden voice reminded Wheeljack of the humans nearby, but when he looked, he saw Miko collapse with the other human running toward her. "Miko, MIKO wake up!"

"Better hurry with that Ground-bridge," he said looking at the unconscious wrecker and panicking human, but specifically the girls clearly cybertronian arm. "And prep Sickbay for two."


	9. Chapter 8: Family Complications

The first thing she felt was the dull ache penetrating her entire body, followed by a strange, liquid tingle coarsing through her.

"Hey, Dudes she's coming around!" Miko recognized the voice as Henry Masterson, Unit:E's resident tech geek and annoyance. She heard foot falls as others rushed toward her, and a familiar voice holding them back.

"Ep ep ep!" Ratchet scolded, making Miko smile inside as her eyes fluttered open. "Give her some room! Thats it," He said softly as Miko saw a light move across her slowly clearing vision. "That's it Miko. Good, good."

"Uuuuugghhh, Ratchet?," She groaned, looking up at the autobot medic, trying to push herself up and out from under the thin hospital sheet, only for Ratchet to tenderly push her back down. She tried to resist, but her limbs felt like lead logs.

"Easy," He said, "you burned through a lot of energon, and your systems need time to reboot."

"Reboot?" She wondered, before looking down at her arms. Both had IV's inserted into them just below the elbow, but one was dripping a clear liquid into her blood stream, while the other was glowing blue and connected to her still transformed right arm. 'Energon,' she realized, slowly raising and turning the appendage over, the barely glowing pink circuits crisscrossing the dark purple metal. This did not go unnoticed by Ratchet.

"I've already begun a level one diagnostic. Hopefully it will reveal the extent of your, 'condition.'" The japanese teen sighed and slumped back in her bed, just as Rafael approached with the less familiar Henry right behind him.

"Hey guys," She smiled weakly, turning her head to look at them as the younger teen genius smiled back.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like Slag," She answered bluntly and honestly, noticing someone was missing. "Where's Jack?"

"Still in debrief with Fowler and the Regents," Henry said not taking his eyes off her cybertronian arm. Raf elbowed the inventor in the side, shooting him a glare only for the taller tech genius to glare back. "What? I'm just trying to figure out whats what." But this only earned him a certain medics ire.

"Well you can do it somewhere else," He spat dryly, glaring back at the inventor. "Take a scan and examine it in your lab if you must." Henry held the medic's optics only a moment before he turned and walked away, causing Raf to shoot his own glare at Ratchet.

"Hey, what gives?"

"I'm simply attempting to preserve patient doctor confidentiality." Raf only scoffed at that.

"Thats a load of scrap. Come on Ratch, why don't you trust Henry? I know he's not the nicest guy sometimes but come on."

"Trusting that insect," The medic said wryly, "Would be like trust a scraplet not to eat metal." The mention of the tiny cyber-pests brought a name back to Miko's mind.

"Bulkhead!" he yelled, sitting up so fast her head began to spin.

"Miko!" Ratchet scolded gently pushing the girl back down, "I already told you; rest. Let the energon do its work."

"But, where's Bulkhead?" Ratchet's only response was to take a step back, allowing Miko to see the much larger berth next to hers. Only now did she realize her bed was on the catwalk overlooking the rest of the hangar, and consequently, the autobot recuperating nearby. She smiled when she saw Bulkhead lying, unconscious but very much alive judging by the rumbling snores coming from his vents.

"He suffered extensive damage to his vehicular mode," Ratchet admitted, gesturing to the wreckers dented plating and still shattered glass. "And while he very nearly exhausted himself into stasis lock, there is very little permanent damage. Nothing a few solar cycles rest won't fix." His faceplates turned grim as he turned back to Miko. "You however," he said leaning over her and examining her transformed arm. "You have once again left me baffled."

"That makes two of us." Miko turned her head, and saw her best friend walking up the catwalk stairs.

"Hey Jack-rabbit," She smiled, trying to sound better than she actually felt. But the young agent knew her too well for the deception to work.

"Still under the weather I'm guessing."

"Yeah," she sighed sinking a little further into the beds thin cushions. She looked past Jack and the sight of sunlight streaming in from the partially open hangar doors brought a new question to mind. "How long was I out anyway?" She asked expecting a number of days.

"Not long actually," Jack shrugged folding his arms, "Three, four hours tops." The only one not surprised by this seemed to be Ratchet.

"Stasis lock from energon deprivation rarely lasts for prolonged periods," he said matter of factly. "Provided you can administer a fresh infusion quickly." Miko let the medics words soak in for a moment, one that allowed an awkward silence to form between her and Jack, who couldn't help but stare at her metallic limb.

"So um," The young agent started rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm guessing you didn't."

"No," Miko said flatly, voice devoid of the energy and spirit Jack had come to know her by.

"Can't imagine what this must be like for you," He said, hoping to get Miko to open up and voice whatever she was feeling inside, but the girl just remained silent. It was starting to scare him, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

"By the All Spark," Ratchet suddenly gasped, staring at the cybertronian sized monitor before him. "Thats, thats not possible."

"Ratchet?" Jack asked nervously, not entirely sure he wanted to know what had shocked the medic.

"The diagnostic I ran on Miko is complete," he said breathlessly as Miko began to push herself upright. "I was expecting surgical grafts but this is."

"This is what Ratchet?" Miko asked anxiously. Jack looked back at his best friend, and for maybe the fourth time since he'd met her Miko looked scared out of er mind. Ratchet must have seen it too, as he hesitated before delivering the news.

"According to the diagnostic scans, the cybernetics now visible on your arm extend throughout your entire body, and the components and alloys are undoubtedly cybertronian." Jack watched Miko, but the japanese teen said nothing. "If I had to theorize, It would seem that your cybertronian frame is encased within some kind of, techno-organic exo-skeleton. Miko," he said turning to her. "Were you involved in any significant trauma as a child? An accident of some sort?" Miko thought for a moment, she'd fallen from a tree and broken her right arm when she was eight, and there was that time when she'd cracked a rib racing her friends bike but those hardly seemed like significant trauma. She shook her head no.

"Hmph, well that rules out a self-reformatting."

"Self what?" Jack asked.

"Self reformatting," Ratchet explained, "Its a self preservation function initiated by the T-cog, and only happens when a cybertronian has been so heavily damaged that not even stasis lock can preserve our spark. During the later days of the war, both sides sent reconnaissance units to star systems neighboring Cybertron in hopes of finding alternative energy sources to supplant dwindling energon supplies. Cut off from immediate aid and reinforcement, these units were often forced to heal themselves by reformatting their bodies, which meant scanning whatever form was available to them. So it is not unheard of for a cybertronian to adopt an organic alt-mode."

"But," Jack said remembering the medics earlier words, "I'm guessing thats not the case." Ratchet looked at Miko, still not believing the young girl had remained silent all this time. It wasn't right seeing her this shaken or quiet.

"No," he said directing his attention to Miko. "Miko, I understand how confusing this must be for you and you would like nothing more than answers at this time. But without more detailed scans I'm afraid I'm only speculating. Is there anyone you know, a family member, who might be able to tell us more?" Miko thought for a moment, but when she spoke her voice was laced with anger.

"...My Dad," She spat quietly, "He and my Uncle know _something_."

"Do you mean the other human that was with you on the freeway?" She nodded yes, causing Ratchets faceplates to twist into guarded contemplation.

"Hmm."

"What is it?" Jack asked, not liking the medics sudden mood one bit.

"If I recall, he and Wheeljack left for japan through the ground-bridge approximately half an hour ago."

"Hold on a sec, why would someone who just learned about cybertronians be ground-bridging halfway across the world with one?"

"He didn't say," Ratchet admitted darkly, "Only that he was under orders, _from the Regents_."

* * *

"No, absolutely not! Out of the question!" Fowler liked to think of himself as a reasonable man , but maintaining that title was proving difficult. Especially against obstacles such as those facing him now.

"Director, please understand," The Regent's lead speaker, a sharply dressed gentleman of middle years that went by the name of Rook at the moment. "We have every intention of dealing with this threat."

"By sending our only defense halfway across the universe?" Fowler said as calmly as he could, wishing his superiors had not dismissed Jack so soon.

"We are aware of the situation," another regent said dismissively, her older face partially obscured behind a set to black bangs that did nothing to hide her contempt for the man before her. "Despite your neglect to inform us."

"It wasn't my intention to keep you in the dark," Fowler said attempting to placate the men and woman before him. "I wanted to make sure our communications were secure against Soundwave. By the time we had done that the situation had escalated."

"An escalation your deliberation allowed to happen Director." Rook said, deathly calm and not hearing any of Fowler's defense. "We know all about your communication with your friends on Cybertron, a message sent _before_ the incident in Japan."

"Your job _Director_," The third, quieter regent said leaning forward and folding his hands together, "Is to oversee the monitoring and surveillance of all extraterrestrial threats to the people of earth and to appraise us of these threats so we may determine how best to deal with them." It was times like this that made Fowler miss his army days.

"With all due respect _Sir,_" Fowler said biting his tongue, "This isn't just any threat we're dealing with here. The Decepticons have centuries more experience than us, in warfare and subversion tactics. Our only chance to repel this threat is with the Autobots."

"There is no need to involve Cybertron is this matter," The female regent said briskly, leaving Fowler speechless but only for a moment. "We have already made arrangements for you to be granted access to all of the most advanced weaponry available." Before he'd been impatient, now the regents were getting on his last nerve.

"I'm sorry Ma'am," Her said, deathly calm, "but whatever you _think_ you know about the Decepticons. Is. Wrong." The woman sat a little straighter, but the condescending just continued.

"The _Decepticons_," Rook said deliberately, "Were disbanded by their former commander on Cybertron."

"Where Soundwave was not present," Fowler reminded them. "And I'll bet you all thirteen stripes that he's not about to give up the fight." The Director knew first hand how a soldiers loyalty could turn to deadly fanaticism, and Soundwave was as loyal as they came.

"You believe then," The third regent said, having remained silent for most of the briefing, "That this communications officer, this Soundwave, may try to rebuild the Decepticon forces here on earth?" Fowler's answer was curt and clear.

"If he hasn't started already." The regents fell silent, looking between themselves before speaking again, Rook taking the lead as usual.

"All right Director, you can keep your Autobots. But they are to remain covert at all times. And as for this Predacon." Fowler kept his cringe to himself. Vanishing cars, trucks, and bikes he could handle. A giant red white and blue metal dragon however. But what he heard from the regents next was ... unexpected.

"We think it would be to everyone's benefit if it was kept under close supervision. By someone with extensive knowledge of both human customs and disguising cybertronian nature." Fowler felt his heart sink and then bounce right back up to smack his tongue. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were talking about, just an obscene amount of clearance.

"I'll be sure to tell Rodney that."

"There is no need Director," the female regent said curtly, "Agent McNeil has been updated and is already en route."

* * *

Wheeljack was only half paying attention to the road, letting his temporary charge guide his vehicular form while he took in the scenery. Out of all the countries he visited while exploring earth, Japan had latched itself into a special part of his spark. He told himself it was the peace and quiet and the mountains, both of them big fat lies. It was the buildings really: The sweeping roofs and gentle curves took his processor back to a time before the war, back when he'd just been another student training to be a warrior in the Elite Guard. But more than the war, that was before he lost his family, before _He_ had turned his back on them and everything their Sensei had ever!

He cycled a sigh and cleared his processor. Going over his list of skeletons was the last thing he needed to be doing right now. Instead he focused on his "driver" examining the small man, but mostly trying to read him under that mask he called a face. Neither of them said a word until finally, Wheeljack couldn't take it anymore.

"So," He started, trying to break the ice, "You're Miko's Uncle." His passenger sighed, leaning back slightly.

"Well, no," Rodney attempted to clarify, "I mean its, uuuggh its complicated."

"Most families are," Wheeljack said, earning a groan from Rodney.

"Tell me a bout it. Sometimes it, I just, buuuuhhh." He slumped forward onto the wheel and Wheeljack let him rest his eyes. "I need a vacation. A loooooong vacation."

"I hear that," Wheeljack said, already sensing a fellow drifter in the human. "You know, there's an earth like planet just a galaxy over."

"No-ho-thanks wheels," He laughed lounging back, "I think I'll keep my feet on the ground fer now. But thanks for the offer. Turn left here."

"Gotcha," Wheeljack said, turning off the main road and down a narrow driveway that seemed to vanish somewhere in the tree's ahead. The branches brushed against his frame, and Whelljack casually thought how prissy Knockout would get if he had to drive through terrain like this. The ex-Decepticon medic was still more than pathetic in the wreckers opinion, but his sparring sessions with Smokescreen and Bumblebee were slowly training him out of it.

"Here we are," Rodney said as Wheeljack found himself driving up to a very old but well kept house. The building looked to be two stories tall with white walls set in dark wood frames under a sweeping roof of dark gray tiles. Wheeljack realized from the dated architecture coupled with the extensive gardens laid out in front of and likely behind the building he was likely looking at Miko's ancestral home. His musing though did not mean he didn't notice the old woman staring at them from the gardens. He shut off his engine.

"Wait here," Rodney said quietly, stepping out and standing beside Wheeljacks vehicle form. "They've been through a lot in de past few days and well..." Wheeljack said nothing, just locked his doors and put it in park. Rodney sighed and let his carefully created mask of clam fall. He walked toward the house's front door, pausing to bow to the woman standing on the covered porch. Naoko Nakadi returned the bow, not slowed or impeded by her old age.

"McNeil-san," She said, her normally calming song like voice hollow and weary.

"Mrs. Nakadi," he returned, tears beginning to well in his eyes as his throat started to choke. "I, I'm so sorry for your loss." The older woman closed her eyes and bowed her head, her own tears slipping from her amber eyes, a trait shared by all Nakadi women.

"She is with her father now," She said, searching for a silver lining, even if it meant reminding herself of her husbands death nine years ago. He could see the lines where tears had stained her wrinkled cheeks, and he knew it was unlikely she had slept last night.

"If, you don't mind me ask'n," he began, but the Nakadi matriarch cut him off.

"They're in the washitsu." The man only had to think a moment before he caught her meaning. They bowed to each other, then Rodney entered the house, slipping off his shoes before going to confront his friend. He had visited the ancient Nakadi home many times before, so it was not long at all before he found the correct room. He slid back the paper and bamboo doors, taking in the smooth mat covered floor, the shelves and cupboards he knew to contain jars of special herbs grown in the gardens outside. His gaze lingered only for a second on the sword hanging from the wall over a painting of its previous owner, Miko's grandfather, Hiro Nakadi. He looked away and across the room, only for his heart to break.

He was sitting halfway between the door and the middle of the room, legs crossed and folded. He looked like a statue wearing his most casual of clothes, a bare brown shirt and khaki pants, not even seeming to breath as Rodney stepped inside the room. He followed his gaze, up to the small only slightly raised bed lying the the center of the room.

The first thing Rodney noticed about her was the absence of her contagious smile, that goofball toothy grin that could infect anyone with a good mood, even her dour husband. But instead her pale lips were straight, and her eyes were closed. She appeared to be sleeping, lying there in that snow white kimono with her hands folded over her stomach, her long hair carefully combed to a shine he knew would soon fade. Just as she had.

Rodney looked away from Mika's body, not daring to hold it in his eyes another moment, or he knew he wouldn't be able to pull himself back together. He turned to his friend.

"Dynomo?" He called softly, and waited for a response.

"..." The darker man remained silent, leaving Rodney asking himself is the man had even heard him.

"Dynomo?"

"...I did this." Rodney said nothing, letting his grief stricken friend give his pain voice. "Its my fault she died this way, and not from time." Rodney was one of the few people the Nakadi couple had told the truth when Mikahura was diagnosed with ovarian cancer five years ago. He remembered how fragile Mika had looked when she recounted how the doctors had explained the disease to them, one the doctors were not equipped to combat. But Mikahura had been calm. No despair. No fear. She had expected this, for the same reason Miko was an only child.

Try as they might, Dynomo and Mikahura had never been able to have a second child, and two years after Miko was born an examination confirmed Mika was sterile. And Rodney knew Dynomo held himself fully responsible for all of it.

"You can't blame yourself," Rodney said, hoping against hope his words wouldn't fall on deaf ears. "No one knew what was gonna happen."

"Why are you here?" He asked in a tone that carried another meaning. 'Why can I not be alone with my grief?'

"I, Its about Miko," He said timidly. "She, she saw me on the phone last night and, well." He stopped before his stuttering could cripple his voice, took a breath and calmed his shaky voice as best he could. "I had to tell her. I know you wanted to be the one that broke it too her but."

"It's for the best," He said solemnly, his throaty voice hauntingly smooth and fluid. His gaze shifted downward, toward the floor in front of him. "At the end, We are all but echoes of our dreams. A resonance of what could have been, had the fates not decreed it so." He paused, a single tear slipping from his green eyes as he looked back to his wife. "But in the end, like the sun destined to set as the moon is to fade, we are all dying."

Rodney stepped forward, just enough to see over his friends shoulders, and to see the small tanto sword lying unsheathed before him. He swallowed hard, knowing well that the sword was the traditional weapon used in seppuku, a ritual suicide.

"What about Miko?" Rodney asked looking at Dynomo, his tone slowly edging away from nervous and toward contempt, though the mans gaze never left his wife's body. "How do you think she'll react when she looses not one, but both parents inside of a week?"

"The time for me to guard my Daughter is over," he said, steadfastly. "Too long have I tried to shield her from the world." He looked down at the blade before him. "Now she must go forth, and do what I cannot. Live, where I no longer wish too." He closed his eyes as a ghost of a smile fluttered over his face, only to vanish like a spectre in the fog.

"Its for the best," he echoed, reaching down and picking up the blade. "For now the child may finally go forth into the day, and face the night unburdened by the sins of the father." He began to unsheathed the sword, and Rodney knew he'd waited long enough.

"She knows Dynamo." He froze, becoming a statue in the blink of an eye. "She knows there's more to what she is than meets the eye, and that you've been keeping secrets from her. And," he added, his voice taking on a dark tone, "_They _know too." Dynomo turned to face his friend, green amber flecked eyes piercing Rodney's very soul, searching for any hint of deception of exaggeration. For a three second eternity neither of them spoke, until Dynomo uttered a single word.

"When?"

"I don't know," Rodney admitted, "judging by the way she snapped she could have known for months, weeks, maybe years. Fer all I know she found out that night but ... After I found her, _He_ found us. I don't know how he came back or when, but I do know he wasn't alone ... And it wasn't one of his old goons either."

"Describe him." But Rodney had something better than a description.

"Miko called him Soundwave." Dynomo remained rigid, but Rodney knew when the gears were turning in the man's head.

"She knew his designation," he said in a flat tone, one that asked how.

"Yeah, looks like Streak's been keeping secrets of her own." 'And I wonder where she gets it from?' he asked silently to himself. The room fell back into silence, as the dark skinned man's mind worked this new development over and over.

He'd spent his whole life trying to make up for the mistakes of his old one, and more than all his other efforts these past 18 years had allowed him to finally forget his past and move on. Instead of wandering aimlessly he had helped raise a family. Instead of lamenting over his failures, he had laughed with his wife and child.

"She needs to know the truth. But more importantly, She needs _you."_

Now it was all coming back, bearing down on him like a tsunami, inescapable and total in its destruction of all he had come to know. His whole world. 18 years spent building a new life, he knew were about to be dashed like a fishing boat on the rocks.

There was a soft clink of metal as the tanto's sheath recovered the blade, followed by a deep exhale from the man holding it. Dynomo stood, eyes still locked on the peaceful body before him. He bowed, his head coming within inches of his knees. He stood again and turned away, and Rodney saw his posture change the moment he did so. His shoulders locked, his back went straight, and the air about him changed from a man resigned to his fate to something that was strong because it was needed to be. He walked toward the sliding doors, but stopped, looking at the painting and sword hanging from the wall at his right.

"Take it," The voice of the elder Nakadi said from the door, making Rodney realize he had never closed it. Dynomo looked at his mother in law, then back at the blade resting in its display frame. "Hiro loved you like a son," Naoko said wistfully, eyes full of remembering, "he would have wanted you to have it." Dynomo approached the sword, and with the reverence of one taking up a cherished legacy, removed the sword from its stand.

"Thank you," he said, reaching down and retrieving the worn leather strap that accompanied the blade.

"Take care of my granddaughter," Naoko said as her eyes teared. "Please don't let her." The elder woman finally broke down crying, and was soon embraced by her son in law. "Please," She sniffled, "I can't loose any more of you."

"You will not,' Dynomo said firmly, "I promise you, with all that I am."

"Thank you," She said breaking the hug, but not bothering to wipe her tears. "Now, if you could let me be ... alone with my daughter." Dynomo nodded and walked out of the room, followed by Rodney after a quick deep bow to the grieving mother.

* * *

Wheeljack was just about to become bored out of his processor when he saw Rodney exit the house with a very grim looking friend in tow. It took the wrecker a moment to realize who he was looking at, and even when he did he could still barely believe it. For starters Miko had almost none of her fathers features. His skin was darker and his short black hair had the slightest tinge of brown to it. There seemed to be some similarity in the nose but it there was it was very slight. What really caught Wheeljack's optics however, was the eerily familiar shade of green making up the man's eyes.

He unlocked his doors just as the two approached, Dynomo seeming hesitant to enter. It was not lost on Wheeljack the way the man was staring at him, like he was trying to take him apart and decide if he was real or not. He finally slid into Wheeljack's passenger seat, not even glancing at Rodney beside him. The smaller man sighed, then adjusted his seat; the signal for Wheeljack to send Ratchet their coordinates for a ground-bridge. A few seconds later the swirling blue green vortex opened behind them, and as Wheeljack turned to enter it he heard Rodney mutter a grim comment.

"Welp, Here we go again."


	10. Chapter 9: Out of the Shadows

**Hey everyone, just wanted to let all you followers and repeat readers know how grateful I am for the favorites and the interest you've shown in this story. Even when its not on the front page I'm finding new people favoriting and following. So to all of you, Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.**

**Now, I've gotten a few reviews and comments from readers who were pretty sure they knew what I had in mind as far as plot goes. Yeah I know that after people read the first chapter the whole Miko techno-organic thing could be seen a light-year away, but from now on I promise; unpredictability my name will be thus. Starting with how Miko reacts to seeing her Dad again after all the scrap thats happened. But then again this is Miko we're talking about.**

**Now the embarrassing bit. One of the reviews of the previous chapter informed me that I've been misspelling Miko's family name, and that it is Nakadai instead of Nakadi. **

**... **

**Frag me.**

**This mistake will be avoided from now on, but as my last attempt at correcting an error in an already posted chapter ended in the loss of said document, I'm not gonna mess with whats already up and posted. But I've wasted enough of your time with this notice, NOW! ONTO THE CHAPTER! **

* * *

To say Motormaster was in a foul mood would be the understatement of the decacycle.

"**_RAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!"_**Soundwave deactivated his audio receptors but kept a close optic on the hulking destroyer. Motormaster ripped another tree out of the earth, roots and all before throwing it like a twig over the tree tops, only to shift his servo to a blaster in the same motion and obliterate the trunk in mid air. He roared again, already grabbing and lunging for another tree, but Soundwave knew he should at least be thankful Motormaster was taking his fury out on the fauna and not his squad. The three remaining stasis locked soldiers, if they could be called that, were in bad enough shape as it was. The last thing they needed was Motormaster going back to his old habits and beating their already dim sparks within inches of joining the well.

"I had them," he snarled to himself, "I had that rodent dead to rights, and what happens?! MORE AUTOBUGS!" Soundwave in his customary fashion said nothing, letting the stunticon leader vent as he recorded the rant. "And a Wrecker on top of it all! GRRR, Why the slag is this planet so interesting all of a sudden anyway?! Pfeh, slagger's probably sweet on the fle..." He stopped, and Soundwave noticed his optics were now searching and focusing.

"The fleshy," he repeated in a much calmer tone as he looked at his left servo. "The girl." He shifted his servo to its path blaster mode. That was one of only two true advantages Motormaster had over the other Decepticon commanders; it was near impossible to tell what he was thinking when he didn't want you to know.

"The girl," he suddenly said, then actually laughed a little, vocalizer hitching into a rough growl. "Well frag me sideways." Soundwave decided the rant had gone on long enough, and opened a link to Motormasters heads up display.

:We need to begin scouting operations if we are to acquire a sufficient amount of energon: The Stunticon huffed and turned to the smaller and thinner mech.

"You can scout and scavenge all you want Wave," he barked. "I don't do scraps and leftovers. If I want it," He said shifting his right servo into a sword, "I'll take it from an autobots cold dead hands."

:Attempting to raid the Autobots and humans is suicide Motormaster: Soundwave keyed curtly. :Both their numbers and combat ability far out strips our own _current_ capabilities.: The formatted text caught the stunticons attention, and it only took him a moment to catch the fliers meaning.

"Hmm, good idea." He smiled, "One thing though; we'll need Breakdown."

:Breakdown was off-lined roughly six solar-cycles ago by Airachnid: Motormaster couldn't help but scoff at the irony of the torture expert terminating the one mech who could actually see past her sadistic processor. :However: Soundwave added. :I have already made arrangements for his body to be repaired and returned to operational capacity as a drone unit:

"And just who is the one doing this little touch up?" Soundwave knew of the Stunticon leaders legendary distaste for organics and knew his reply had to be as vague as possible.

:A contact of mine here on earth. He has served me loyally and his mechanical skill is unparalleled on this planet: Motormaster was silent for a moment, resuming that unreadable shell Soundwave despised then reminded him of another reason to hate him.

"He's human ain't he?" To his credit Soundwave didn't flinch or react in any visible way, but thats why he wears the mask. "Well?" Motormaster asked, but Soundwave's silence told him all he needed too. "Hmph, all right then, lets see what he can do." Soundwave had to stop and process the stunitcons last words, before replaying a recording from the leader himself.

":_Cybertronix please?:_" But Motormaster just shrugged it off as he walked back into the cave.

"You said it yourself he's already helped you out once," He said, unnervingly casual. "And if he knows his way around our Tech that's even better." He looked down at the stasis locked chassis of one of his teammates, black and red color scheme faded from lack of energon. Motormaster scoffed then unceremoniously kicked the inactive mech in the side. "Primus knows none of these glitches know anything about repairs." Soundwave took a moment to ponder this; he had planned on having to keep the nature of his contact a secret from an organic prejudiced Motormaster, but it seemed something had caused the King of the Road to change his opinion somewhere down the line.

He could only hope then that his contact's demeanor would not play against this new acceptance.

* * *

The first inkling Miko had was when Ratchet stopped his repair work on Bulkhead to look at Jack and ask him to clear the hangar. Ratchet never looked at someone and gave an order while operating on a patient. Never. Her best friend only looked at Ratchet, then nodded to her before walking off to clear the room.

She couldn't see much from her bed on the control platform, but she could definitely hear Jack shouting and moving the small maintenance crew repairing a set of busted over head lights out, his voice joined by Fowler's, signalling the Directors arrival. And judging by his tone he was in a foul mood. She heard the hangar's smaller set of doors close, then the metal accented foot steps as the agent and director ascended the catwalk while Raf opened the ground-bridge. The familiar electronic bubbling and swoosh was followed by a muscle car engine ticking down, then the click of doors opening and closing.

Miko swallowed hard, she knew she was shaking and her skin had broken out in chills. For a moment the air in the hangar seemed to grow heavy, until Fowler broke the silence.

"Mr. Nakadai," he said respectfully, offering his hand as the ground bridge deactivated. "Welcome to Operations Base Omega Two. My name's William Fowler, Director of."

"Where. Is. She?" Dynomo growled, cutting the director off sharply.

"...Up stairs," Fowler said flatly, letting his hand and gesture fall to his side. The elder Nakadai just glared at the shorter man and silently walked past him, his gaze lingering for a moment on the younger of the two, particularly the bandages wrapped around his head and left ear. All the while Jack was taking in just how different Miko and her father were in appearances. Jack knew he was at least six foot, roughly the same as Fowler, but Miko's old man was at least a head taller than either of them. That and he'd never exactly pictured Miko's father carrying a samurai sword on his back, but this was _Miko's_ dad after all.

Dynomo stopped suddenly, pausing to look up at Ratchet and the still unconscious Bulkhead. It wasn't lost on the medic the glare the man was giving them, only its meaning. Nor did he understand why the man's eyes seemed to flash green just before he looked away and started up the steps. Jack moved to follow him, but found his way blocked by Miko's Uncle.

"No," he said, "sis is someting they have sort out between dem." Jack only needed a moment to understand Rodney's words, then remembered that Miko's sudden cybernetics wasn't the only bombshell dropped on the japanese family lately.

"Rafael," Fowler called up to the catwalk, waving the young teen down. Raf nodded, locking the ground-bridge controls before nodding good bye to Miko and making his way down to the floor. He paused for a moment on the steps when he saw Miko's father coming up, only for the man to move to one side and let him pass. Raf, thinking quick, bowed to the man as deeply as the steps and his balance would allow, then slipped past him. The dark skinned man held the boy in his gaze only a moment before continuing up the stairs.

Raf reached the ground, and ran over to Jack and Fowler, anxiety written all over his face.

"This isn't going to go well is it?" He asked as Ratchet crouched down on one knee so as not to seem intruding on the Nakadai's conversation.

"It all depends on Miko," the autobot medic said quietly, "her initial reaction could determine whether this reunion begins the healing of their shared grief."

CRASH! The iv landed ten yards across the hangar.

"... Or devolves into a venting of frustrations."

The humans below cringed as Miko roared, tossed the heart monitor toward and down the stairs, Her father swearing in Japanese as she moved onto the defibrillator, respirator, before grabbing the energon infuser and throwing it like a sack of wheat. This did not sit well with a certain Medic.

"Miko I needed that!" Raf and Jack cringed and lowered themselves a little closer to the ground as Miko yelled again, then threw her bed over her head and out across the hangar. Wheeljack made a note of the final resting place compared to where it started and came to a quick conclusion regarding Miko's father.

'He's slagged.'

It was also after getting a hospital bed lobbed at him that Dynomo decided he'd seen enough.

"MIKO NAKADAI!" He yelled poking his head up beyond the safety of the stairs final steps. "PUT THAT SPACE BRIDGE CONTROL CONSOLE DOWN THIS INSTANT!" He glared at his daughter, one crouched low to the ground, the other holding a part of the ground-bridge controls over her head, her entire right arm now fully transformed from the shoulder down, as well as both of her legs below the knee's while slivers of deep purple armor plating had slid out and over her tattered clothing to rest over her left shoulder, drastically contrasting her eyes.

"Miko," Dynomo repeated softly, coming to stand on the control platform across from her. "Please, put it down." Miko just stood there, but as she did her breathing slowed and her eyes shifted from wrath to an emotion more fitting of the tears flowing from her eyes. The green glow in her eyes faded, and whether her grip failed by design or accident, the console fell back out of her grasp. Dynomo was already by his daughter's side when the machine hit the floor, wrapping her in a hug and letting her sink to the floor sobbing in his embrace.

Miko couldn't take it anymore. Seeing her father and hearing his voice had broken the dam she'd been building with her anger. She collapsed into the familiar embrace, the same one that had comforted her when she hurt herself, and when her first boyfriend had dumped her.

"Its okay Miko," Dynomo said between sobs of his own. "Its okay, I've got you." Her throat wasn't letting her form the words she wanted it to, the only thing that came from her was crying sobs, and it seemed Dynomo was about to join his daughter in distraught. Then, just as he did when she was a very little girl, he started to softly rock his daughter back and forth in his arms as a low sound started from his throat.

At first it was just a hum, then came words. Words Fowler, Jack, and Raf slowly realized were neither English nor Japanese. But two present did recognize the sweet melody, one from cycles long passed, another from countless nights in the med bay as carriers held their energon starved sparklings close.

"By Primus," Ratchet gasped in a hushed tone, earning Raf's attention.

"What is it Ratch?"

"Its... a lullaby. A _Cybertronian _lullaby." No one said a word as the song continued, the low tune invoking a kind of involuntary reverence. But even as the beings below held their tongues, above their heads that was not the case.

Dynomo was not sobbing as his daughter was, but he could not stop the tears flowing. Every note he sounded, every lyric that passed his lips brought with it a memory, each more dear to him than the last.

Buying their first house, and the unexpected pains of moving in while Mikahura was still pregnant with Miko.

The summers spent with Mika's parents at the lake, teaching Miko to swim when her grandfather wasn't trying to show her how to play mahjong or go.

Watching Miko take her first steps, Mika cheering her on as they held their arms open for her.

...The night they met. A chain of events neither of them had seen coming but would never forget. Looking into her eyes for the first time, warm amber that burned with compassion and abandon in the same fire. Feeling the security of his hand in hers, her body against his, and knowing that even if the whole world rejected him that he could always find love welling from her heart.

The day Miko was born, a split moment that had arrived at the end of an hour stuck in Tokyo traffic combined with what had felt like an eternity in the hospital room, but in an instant gave way to the greatest moment of his entire life. The moment he finally held a squalling, red faced infant wrapped in hospital blankets in his arms. His daughter. His baby girl.

Miko wished her throat would cooperate and her mouth would work so she could actually tell her father what she was feeling instead of breaking down in his arms like a scared kid. She was angry at her father for not telling her the whole truth and lying to her her whole life, not to mention the thousand and one smaller petty arguments they'd let build between them.

But more than that, she was scared. Scared of coming home and not hearing her mom call to her from another part of the apartment, scared of not being able to tell her about all the little things that had happened on her last trip.

But if loosing her Mom had unmoored Miko from the safety that was her home life in Tokyo, the revelations covering her body had sent her into the eye of the storm. Everything she had ever held as truth, was a lie. Everything. All of it.

"...Why?" She finally managed to ask, still crying where she sat in her fathers arms. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her father knew the single question held two queries.

"W, We," Dynomo choked, pausing before gathering his strength. "We wanted you to be happy. You're... Mother and I," he said letting Miko away from him, so their eyes met, "We wanted you to have a normal life. We didn't want you to share our pains."

"...How long did you know? About Mom's..."

"The year after you went to America," He said solemnly, "You're mother, came home from work early one day and..." He collected himself, remembering the sight. "She hadn't bled like that in years. We went to the hospital, Dr. Saegusa." Miko fleetingly remembered him, a few of the check ups he'd given her when she was a child, a kind man smarter than his job. "Three weeks later he diagnosed your Mother with Ovarian Cancer. ... He gave her four months."

But instead, her mother had fought for over five years. Never letting her pain slow her down or keep her from enjoying what little time she had left with her family. Time she and Miko could have spent together, instead of thousands of miles apart.

"I should have been there," Miko sniffled, "If you guys had just told me I could've."

"No," Her father sighed. "The decision not to speak of it was your Mothers. She didn't want her pain taking away from the life you were building." Now Miko felt the weight of her own secrets crashing down on her, secrets that the last few hours had revealed were more entangled with her own life than she had ever imagined.

"Dad, I... I'm sorry. For not telling you and Mom about." But her father cut her off.

"No, I am the one that must apologize," He said firmly, helping Miko to stand back on her own feet. "It was my decision not to tell you about your heritage, but I promised Her. I promised your Mother that when you were ready, you would know the truth about where you come from. The _w__hole_ truth." He looked around, but his gaze settled on Ratchet, a gesture the medic took as the signal to stand. He closed his eyes a moment and took in a deep breath, only to expel it a moment later. "No more hiding. Director!" He shouted down, looking over the rail at Fowler and the two young men beside him. "These are secrets I shall not repeat."

Confused only a nanosecond, Miko quickly understood what her Father meant. A great many secrets were about to come to light, and it wasn't a tale he cared for.

It was only a minute before Fowler, Jack and Rafael had ascended the stairs to the control station, Rodney trailing behind them as Ratchet stood close by. Dynomo did not doubt the existence of a recording device somewhere in the room, but now was not the time for hesitation. He glanced up at the Autobot medics optics and steeled himself.

"I told you," he said to Miko, "That I withheld the truth about your heritage. I had my reasons, but chief among them was my wish that my past life would not come to haunt your own." He glared at the symbol emblazoned across Ratchets chest plate. "But I see now that cannot be avoided. The truth is this Miko. I am...not human. Nor am I a native of this world."

"You're cybertronian," Ratchet said gravely, earning a nod from the elder Nakadai.

"Yes. I am of Cybertron. I was given the designation Dynamo by my Carrier, a name I found translated easily when I arrived here. I was raised in the dojo of Dai Atlas, as well as his...other students." Ratchets optics widened at the designation.

"The Metallikato Master. Dai Atlas and his twin Yoketron were among the most respected warriors on all of Cybertron before the war." Miko quickly connected the dots between Ratchets information and Her fathers rarely shown combat prowess.

"They...adopted me," Dynomo admitted with his head hung low, "After my Carrier joined the Allspark. They trained me to become a warrior of the Elite Guard." It was Jack who provided the next link in the chain.

"So when war broke out across Cybertron."

"Yes," Dynomo said as if confessing to a crime, "when the fighting began I found myself drawn to the battlefield. For a warrior, there is no greater purpose than that which demands combat." Unsurprisingly, and in typical doctor fashion, Ratchet had already begun to piece together a profile of Miko's Father.

"When did you leave Cyberton, and why?"

"I left to escape the war that was tearing our planet to sheds," He said with just a hint of venom creeping into his voice, "I do not recollect the date. All I know is it was after the Siege of Praxus."

"Megatron's Folly," Ratchet said mysteriously, earning the curiosity of Raf.

"Whats that?"

"A name Rafael," The medic explained, "Coined by the Autobots after the Siege of Praxus. You see, when the war broke out, Cybertron's lawful defense forces were by no means prepared to quell an uprising, much less a full scale rebellion. In the beginning, Megatron's army seemed unstoppable, crushing his opponents wherever they dared face the warlord. It wasn't until He laid siege to the citystate of Praxus that the Autobots were able to muster a true resistance, and make the Decepticon war machine falter. The battle crippled much of Megatron's army and it was shortly thus the war became a stalemate all across Cybertron." He paused for a moment, optics flickering slightly before he spoke again.

"Your designation, Dynamo. I do not recall any Autobot who went by that name during the war."

"So," Jack shrugged, remembering his own time on Cybertron tracking down Vector Sigma. "It is a big planet after all."

"Yeah," Fowler said unexpectedly grim, "But after a battle the infirmary gets pretty small." Dynomo had remained silent throughout this, but his posture was not that of one politely waiting his turn.

"... There is a simple explanation for that," He said looking at the floor, anywhere but His daughter's eyes. "I ... wasn't an Autobot."

The words hung over the room like a cloud, but for Miko it felt more like ice had just been poured into her veins. She looked down at her arm and legs, the colors of the plating and energon lines suddenly making a great deal of grim sense. Hers was not the color scheme of an Autobot. They were Decepticon colors.

No one dared speak, until the silence was broken by the last being expected to do so.

"I thought I recognized that voice." Everyone looked up and turned when Wheeljack suddenly transformed and stood beside Ratchet, moving the medic out of the way with his shoulder. Dynomo swallowed hard and approached the Wrecker at the edge of the platform. "Dynamo," He said glaring down at the man. "Long time."

"Not long enough I think," Dynamo replied, matching the larger cybertronians glare.

"Twelve hundred decacycles," He answered hardly. "You know, humans have a saying: All wounds heal with time." He shook his head, a small smile on his face plates. Then he swung his servo and swatted Dynomo clear across the hangar.

"DAD!" Miko screamed running for the stairs as Ratchet turned on the Wrecker.

"WHEELJACK What in the name of Primus are you doing!?"

"What I should've done at Praxus," he said, his mouth-guard sliding over his lower face-plates as he drew one of his swords. He stalked toward Dynamo, the smaller cybertronian just picking himself up from the heap he landed in. He put his feet under him and looked up to find Wheeljack's frame looming over him. "I've been waiting a long time for this." He gripped his sword with both hands, raised it over his head and swung down. But before his optic could register the movement, Dynamo had reached back to his own blade and drawn the sword across his profile. No one was more surprised than Wheeljack when the tiny sword stopped his own.

"Just because my size has diminished," Dynamo growled as his green eyes began to glow, "Does not mean I have allowed my strength to follow it! ReAAAAAAHHH!" He shoved up and back, pushing the much larger cybertronian away from him. Wheeljack stumbled only a moment before he regained his footing, as Miko attempted to bolt across the hangar to her father, only for her best friend to hold her back.

"Miko no!" Jack yelled, grabbing her untransformed arm, and thanking Primus her previous strength was failing her. She continued to struggle as Dynamo and Wheeljack began to circle one another, swords held ready as the others in the Hangar looked on. Fowler was about to have a stroke, and the way he snapped at Rodney showed it.

"Don't just stand there STOP THEM!" But the smaller man only scoffed.

"HA! You want ME to gets between dice and slice over der?! NO-Ho Tanks! I happen to like being alive."

"Ratchet!" Fowler yelled up to the medic, who only shook his helm.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Roderick. I would not advise anyone to come between two Metallikato warriors during a personal dispute. The result would be ... messy." Miko watched her Father and fellow Wrecker circling on another, their swords held in almost identical stances, but there were differences.

"Hmm," Dynamo hummed eyeing Wheeljacks pedes. "You've shortened your stance."

"Lets me move faster indoors," he said flatly, noting the Nakadai's own footwork. "You're slower than you used to be. Whats the matter, age catching up with ya?"

"No quicker than it is coming upon you Brot."

"DON"T!" Wheeljack suddenly barked, calm complexion lost in an instant. "You lost the right to call me that a long time ago Traito."

CLANG!

Everything stopped when something bashed against the hangar doors. Both swordmechs turned by pure reflex to face the noise, just as another rang out. Then came the roar, a sound like scraping metal and thunder, and loud enough to make Dynamo stumble back in surprise.

"What manner of beast IS that?" he asked not taking his eyes off the door. His answer came in a groan from Wheeljack.

"Ah scrap. Should've left the door unlocked." Without warning a set of three hooked claws ripped through the door, slicing down the middle like knives through hot wax. It then bent and rent the door in half, prying the metal apart until it was wide enough for it to enter with its wings folded flush against its back. Both Wheeljack and Dynamo found themselves staring down the massive form of a Predacon dragon, then to the shock of the two newest arrivals, it transformed. Before they knew it, the dragonoid was replaced by a towering broad shouldered mech with pale blue armor accented by blood red horns sprouting from his shoulders, and bone white plating doting his frame. Skylynx looked around the hangar, yellow optics lingering on the new human cowering behind Fowler, then on the human standing beside Wheeljack.

"...Am I interrupting something?"


	11. Chapter 10: AWOL Dragon

**WARNING, SPOILERS AHEAD! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN TRANSFORMERS AGE OF EXTINCTION!**

**Now...**

**My thoughts on Transformers 4 Age of Extinction: HOLY SLAG! A LIVE-ACTION TRANSFORMERS MOVIE WITH AN ACTUAL _PLOT!_! I seriously enjoyed this movie, not because its just another thrill ride cgi slug fest like the last two, but because this time the Transformers take center stage, not their human charges. Shia LaBarf is gone, history, and the new human leads are infinitely more relatable and endearing in a way that doesn't detract from the Autobots protecting them. The humor is also much cleaner, if you catch my meaning, and you can count the reasons for the movies PG-13 rating off on your fingers. (giant robot carnage excluded of course) **

**Following Optimus into battle we have Hound, Drift, Crosshairs, and of course everyone's favorite black and yellow scout. I'm not gonna go on a rant here and spill a bunch of spoilers, so I'll stick to the main points. The movie makes sure you know the Transformers are the main characters in a way the first three didn't even try to, and it also makes way more references to the previous series than all the previous movies combined. I saw references to everything from G1 to Prime, heck they even gave a nod to Hasbro's chronic use of Recolors. **

**But the movies does fall flat in one respect: The Dinobots. Granted they disappoint in the same way Godzilla did in his movie. they get barely any screen time, with most of it at the tail end, and they don't even speak nor are they named onscreen. **

**One final note before we get to the chapter: Expect a sequel, because though the Autobots do succeed and save the day in the end, one thing is indefinitely clear by the time the credits roll. **

**The Decepticons.**

**Are.**

**Back.**

**Now... TO THE CHAPTER! ALL HAIL GALVATRON!**

* * *

_Skylynx looked around the hangar, yellow optics lingering on the new human cowering behind Fowler, then on the human standing beside Wheeljack._

_"...Am I interrupting something?"_

To his credit, Dynomo only wavered for a moment at the sight of the massive predacon, while Rodney's jaw nearly dropped free of his skull. And though Miko, Raf, Jack and Fowler were no strangers to large transformers, none of them had ever seen a Predacon in robot mode before.

"Whoa," Raf gasped, looking up and up at Skylynx, his wings within inches of the roof girders making him appear that much larger. Jack echoed his surprise.

"He's as big as Megatron." Fowler managed to tear his eyes away from the towering mech long enough to reach over and close Rodney's mouth before the smaller man caught an insect in it. The Director though was speechless as well, caught between the previous tension and an entirely new predicament. Fortunately Ratchet was not so awe struck.

"Skylynx!" He barked, boldly stepping up and craning his neck struts to look the predacon in the optics. "What is the meaning of this? Why aren't you still tracking Soundwave?" Skylynx snarled, optics and circuits flashing from yellow to orange with his disposition.

"If you think I'm going to be ordered around like one of your Autobots, _Medic,_ you are sorely mistaken. Besides," he added with a twinge of self admonishing, "The trail ended not far from the battlefield."

"Then where have you been for the past five hours?!" Ratchet said, retrieving his favorite tool from its subspace storage. The humans noticed how the much larger predacon's optics darted down to the instrument now brandished by the medic, and it seemed even a predacon knew to fear the Hatchets wrench.

"I was," he said slowly, not unlike a child coming home after curfew, "familiarizing myself with the area's terrain." But Ratchet wasn't buying it.

"And why did you fly all the way here from Japan, instead of sending your coordinates for a ground-bridge?" Miko noticed a slight twitch in Skylynx's thin wings as the appendages folded slightly toward his shoulders before he got out an excuse.

"I told you, I was familiarizing myself with the area. That includes the sky I will be hunting in." Ratchet only glared at the towering mech: Autobot or Predacon, fliers were always a processor ache to deal with. Ratchet was about to launch into a reprimand, when he noticed he had lost Skylynx's attention to a certain young woman. Miko saw the dragon-former staring at her, optics wandering over her frame but catching on her armor.

"Hey," She snapped, gesturing to her face and catching the predacon off guard slightly, "My eyes are up here Preda-dolt." The dragon-former just scoffed.

"My deepest apologies," he said smoothly, stunning Miko for a moment while he tilted his helm slightly, "Though you do have an impressive plating structure. For a youngling."

"Uh, thanks?" Miko said as Skylynx looked around the hangar and a frown appeared on his faceplates. That's when Jack realized they hadn't exactly thought out sleeping arrangements for the mech considering he couldn't exactly shift to an inconspicuous vehicle mode for recharge. "So," he said with a slight but definitely sarcastic growl. "Am I to sleep in the corner then?"

"Across the runway," Fowler suddenly said earning surprised looks from the younger agents and the smaller man still hiding behind him. "There's a hangar you can stay in. It might not have much in the way of comforts but."

"Is it empty?" The predacon asked cutting him off.

"Yes."

"Then it will do," he said curtly putting his back and wings to the hangar and moving for the now useless door. But Agent Darby's voice stopped him.

"Hold on, that's it?" he asked incredulously, causing the massive transformer to turn slightly to look at him. "You just walk in on all this," He said waving to Wheeljack and Dynamo, swords still drawn and held tight. "And this," He waved to Miko's armor, something that had been confusing them for the past few hours. "And then just walk out?"

"Youngling," Skylynx snorted in amusement, "You are talking to a member of a formerly extinct race of cybertronian life, cloned from cyber nucleic acids concentrated from fossilized bones, who's alternate mode is an icon of another species myths and fairy tales. You will forgive me if I seem underwhelmed." With that the massive dragon-former ducked out of the torn entrance and stalked across the runway, where thankfully the aforementioned hangar was sitting open. No one said anything for a moment, until Miko's father broke his silence.

"Seems I have been gone longer than I thought," he said relaxing his stance slightly as he heard an almost inaudible clink. Wheeljack tensed, ready to take advantage of the smaller transformers dropped guard when suddenly.

CLANG!

"OW! Son of a Glitch!" He yelped, servo's flying apart as the hit knocked his sword from his grasp, another wrench already appearing in Ratchets servo. "Ratchet, what the slag was that for?!"

CLANG!

"OOWW! RATCHET!" The wrecker snapped, glancing up long enough to see another wrench emerging from subspace just as the last person he expected to do so stepped between him and the medics fury.

"If you strike him again," Dynamo snarled, glaring up at Ratchet, "I will not hesitate to relive you of that hand." No one was more surprised than Miko when her father stood up to the hatchet, but she was even more surprised when the medic resubspaced his wrench. Ratchet glared at Wheeljack, and after holding the medics gaze a moment, the wrecker grudgingly sheathed his sword, but not before sending a glare of his own down toward Dynamo.

"This isn't over," he said stalking back to his previous spot by the ground-bridge portal. Dynamo sighed, then returned his own sword to its scabbard as the Director decided to try and put the conversation back on track.

"Not to sound like Ben Franklin without a kite, but what the sam hill was that all about?!" He looked up at Ratchet expecting an answer, but just then his phone rang. Fowler grumbled about bad timing as he retrieved the flip-phone from his pocket and checked the caller ID before silencing the Army Goes Rolling Along ring tone.

"Fowler. ... Can it wait?" he asked bluntly, "I'm in the middle of a briefing." He paused again, listening to who ever was talking on the other end of the signal, when suddenly his eyes went wide, only to snap shut in frustration. "What do you mean _they're here early?_" Jack, Raf and Miko exchanged glances when the Directors tone took a turn for the dangerous. "Are they still on the plane? Good, keep them there until I arrive." With that he hung up and gave a frustrated sigh. "Blasted flyboy's don't know their way around a clock. " Jack approached his commanding officer with a mix of curiosity and anxiety: only one thing could get Fowler that mad that quick nowadays.

"The Regents?" The Army veteran scowled.

"Worse. Fresh meat," he said in a flat guarded voice. "Transport of new recruits landed early. I gotta go make sure they don't loose their heads when they see what Uncle Sam's hiding under his red tape check book." he tossed curt nods toward Ratchet, Dynamo and finally Jack before walking out of the hangar, grumbling under his breath about insurance and predacons.

Jack felt the prickle of silence beginning to set in, so before it became out right awkward.

"So," he said as casually as he could to try and diffuse the remaining tension. "where were we?" Raf bit his tongue and spared a glance at his downcast friend, not about bring up the fact they'd gotten off subject when the fact that Miko's Dad had been a Con came up. But thankfully Dynamo found his voice again, after casting a firm glance of his own at Wheeljack.

"I was injured at Praxus and confined to a medical bay," he said, quickly looking away from the Wrecker. "After I recovered my strength, and my sense, I left Cybertron all together." His voice took on a hard tone, one Miko had only heard him use in those rare scolding turned heartfelt advice conversations. "So that I might atone for the wrongs I had done." Thankfully, Wheeljack kept his vocalizer offline as Dynamo continued.

"I stole a transport ship from Starscream's orbital station and began wandering from planet to planet. I tried to regain my honor by serving the inhabitants as I thought my Sensei would have done, but." He laughed slightly under his breath, more of a harsh scoff but it was one the younger among them understood. Not every species reacts well to a 20 something foot transforming robot dropping out of the sky. In fact most initial reactions, humans not excluded, involve some degree of mass hysteria and military action.

"I thought the most i had to fret about were the inhabitants overreactions," Dynamo added darkly as he walked back toward his daughter. "I never expected that Megatron would send a team to hunt me down. They perused me across the stars until both our ships crashed here, after which events took a, turn for the better." He couldn't help the small smile that had crept onto his face, and Miko had a good albeit rough idea of the memories behind that smile. "I met my would be captors on the field of battle, and with some assistance," he said nodding to Rodney, who just folded his arms and smirked knowingly, "struck them down and cast them out...Or so I thought."

"Hey, look Chopperface," Rodney said reaching up and putting a hand on his best friends shoulder, even as Dynamo snarled at the nickname. "For all we knews dey were crushed to scrap. Heck you dropped a freak'n Mountain on em! Dats gotta put some kinda dent in deir plans. Or at least deir chassis." Dynamo smiled in spite of himself.

"The final battle destroyed what remained of our ships. And even if it hadn't," He said, still smiling as he out an arm around his daughters shoulders and held her close. "I no longer had any reason to leave." Miko looked at her Dad even as he finished his tale. "My transformation cog was damaged in the fight, and I knew what ever form I scanned to repair myself would become permanent. I took this form," he said gesturing to his human body, "So I might live out what days I had left in peace, and not waste the second chance fate saw fit to grant me." Miko smiled.

"You stayed for Mom."

"Yes," He smiled, tears leaking into his eyes. "She showed me how to forget my past and move on. She gave me back my honor, but more importantly," he smiled hugging miko and kissing her on the forehead. "She gave me you." Miko returned her fathers embrace, and father and daughter held each other as they had not in years, even as their honorary relative put his two cents in.

"EY! What am I chop liver?!" Rodney yelled indignantly but not harshly, "If it wasn't fer ME you two love birds would've been like Rats in a Trap." But where a family had rediscovered something heartwarming, a certain Wrecker found bad news.

"Well," Wheeljack said suddenly, but still venomous in tone. "That explains why old Motorbreath was after Miko. He was gonna use her to get to you." Now it was Ratchets turn to be surprised, though in his defense stabilizing Bulkhead and diagnosing Miko had taken priority over debriefing Wheeljack and a new human.

"WHAT!?" He yelled, forcing those around him to either shield their ears or deactivate their audios. "_Motormaster_ was the one helping Soundwave?!"

"Yep." The wrecker replied grimly, "And it looks like Wave's hooked him up with that Mech made Prime knock-off bod." The new designation peek a certain young computer genius's interest.

"Who's Motormaster?" Raf asked, making Rodney laugh nervously.

"One crazy bad aft mother-trucker."

"Motormaster," Ratchet explained, "was one of Megatron's favorite special operations commanders during the war, ranking with Onslaught, Snaptrap, and Razorclaw. His Stunticon squad was as close as the decepticons ever came to replicating the "Wrecker phenomenon"." Wheeljack only scoffed.

"The Stunts might have been just as crazy as we were, but The Wreckers never had a gestalt for a mech shield. Even if it was only a little one."

"Hold on," Jack interrupted, remembering one of Bulkhead's war stories. "Gestalt? As one of those groups of bots that could merge into one bigger bot?"

"Heh, try _huge_ kid," Rodney said shuddering, adding under his breath, "I still have nightmares bout dat freak." he looked up at Wheeljack. "And how in de world could yous call dat Monster little?! I might as well ave been star'n down Godzilla!"

"That pipsqueak only had three components. Try imagining one with five, or _six_." That silenced Miko's uncle real quick.

"Dad," Miko said looking at her father while taking note of her uncles reaction, "who all was after you?"

"Excluding him, Four others," He said tiredly. "There was Dragstrip, and the combiner triplets, Wildrider, Deadend, and Breakdown."

"Hold up," Miko started, "Breakdown was part of a combiner?"

"I take it you're familiar with him?" Miko's posture shrunk slightly, now more nervous than anything about revealing her life with the Autobots to her dad.

"He and Bulkhead used to go at it all the time," She said, careful to avoid the part about her sneaking into the thick of it. "Before Mech got their hands on him and turned him into a science experiment." Now it was her fathers turn to be confused.

"Mech?" He asked looking up at Ratchet, who only scowled.

"This worlds rendition of our owns Decepticons," he explained. "They seek to dominate others of their kind through manipulation of cybertronian technology. With the loss of their leader they have become little more than a nuisance, even though their agents continue to hide amongst this worlds armed forces." Jack knew that was why Fowler was so overly paranoid when it had come to expanding Unit:E while trying to make sure they didn't wind up with any Mech turncoats on the payroll. But his thoughts were interrupted as Ratchet redirected the conversation yet again.

"Though Motormaster, and most likely the rest of his squad are still alive, we know Breakdown was terminated by Airachnid some time ago," The medic said gratefully, as something caught the attention of Rafael, who quickly moved to the ground bridge controls. "And without him, Menasor is no longer a factor."

"Guys!" Raf suddenly cried from beside the smashed control console, operating instead for his ever present trusty laptop. "Satellites just picked up an Energon reading!" Miko was actually a little miffed when Wheeljack and Ratchets attention did a one eighty away from her and her father and toward Raf.

"Where?" Ratchet asked, trying to get a better view of the laptops screen.

"It looks like, the British Isles," Raf said zooming in on the signal.

"Can you tell how old it is?"

"Not from here," He admitted, looking at the smashed control console. "Not anymore at least." Miko looked away, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Uh, right. Sorry about that. I got a little carried away." Ratchet groaned as he picked up the control console in his digits.

"Jack," he said turning to the young Agent. "Inform Director Fowler we've detected a new energon signal, most likely a ground bridge activation."

"On it," he said, then looked at Raf. "Can you run the Ground bridge controls through your laptop?" The computer genius only needed a split second look at the smashed control console.

"Give me five minutes."

"Good," The young Agent said taking out his phone to dial the Directors number, then remembered the issue of Soundwave.

He stuffed the device back in his pocket and sprinted out of the hangar, flagging down a runway maintenance truck. He cast a sideways glance toward the hangar across the runway and had to forcibly remember not to pinch himself when he saw the tip of Skylynx's tail sticking out from behind the doors. Jack heard the driver he'd asked for a ride yelling at him to get in, and he quickly jumped into the trucks rear bed, driving away before he could see the slumbering predacons tail suddenly whip across the hangar entrance as its owner jolted to his pedes.

Before Jack knew it he had already driven past a newly arrived C-130, its engines still ticking down, and arrived at the main part of the base, though in reality it was mostly dedicated to managing damage control operations. He sprinted inside and onto the tiled floors, almost bowling over a soldier carrying a stack of boxes.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry!" Jack yelled back, stumbling a little to avoid a uniformed woman standing in front of one of the snack machines with a tablet in the crook of her arm. "Excuse me!"He apologized, catching himself on the plaster faced walls and continuing down the hall. Until he came to a T junction, and quickly cursed himself and his brain for picking now of all times to forget where the briefing room was. Then he remembered Fowler preferred to give new recruits the talk in his office when possible, so Jack hung a left and headed toward the Directors office. He had just walked past a pair of restrooms when he heard footsteps behind him, the beginning of a sentence, then the pressure of a hand that grasped his right shoulder just a little too firmly.

Reflexes built by training took over. He snapped his left hand up, clamped it over the foreign hand and swung his right back and under the arm attached to it. His left hand shot to the man's face, forcing it way from him at an awkward angle before Jack moved his grip back and up his neck, holding him while he drove his knee into the man's chest, catching a glimpse of the man's fiery red hair and stunning him enough for Jack to spin him around and down to the ground, left arm held in a tight lock. Roughly the same time as he recognized the U.S. Army uniform he was wearing along with the man's face.

"VINCE?!" Jack yelled, not believing his eyes. "What the slag are you doing here?!"

"Herg, I could ask you the same thing Darby," the former bully growled, "Now Get off me!, Gah!" Jack only tightened his grip, trying not to take pleasure in the small grunt of pain that escaped Vince's lips as both heard more footsteps coming up the hall.

"Darby! Coles!" Fowler yelled like a drill sergeant at the top of his lungs. "On your feet!" Jack let Vince go, both jumping to their feet and snapping to attention as The Director stalked toward them, his army roots on full display. "Now what in Washington's false teeth is going on here?!" Vince was the first to find his voice.

"He attacked me Sir," The former jock said with a flat military tone Jack had a hard time recognizing as Vince.

"He startled me," Jack explained calmly, "I reacted on reflex."

"You like'd to broke my arm," Vince shot back, only for Jack to return the blow.

"Not my fault you're so fragile, _Vinny._" That did it. Vince snapped around and grabbed jack by the collar.

"What did you say you little!"

"Enough!" Fowler barked, separating and silencing the two young men with a glare that might as well have been the business end of a cannon. "Both of you. My office. _Now_." Jack waited for Vince to be in front of him, ignoring the look his former bully gave him as they followed The Director. With Fowler holding the door they filed into the room, not bothering with either of the two chairs sitting in front of Fowler's desk.

In truth Jack was much more interested in the red head already in the room. She was thin and slender, with an athletic physique that the skirt of her Navy dress blues revealed. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a bun below her cap which sported the wings badge of a Navy Pilot, while her arms were crossed across her chest in forced patience. Fowler stood beside his desk and pointed to the two recruits.

"Have a seat." It wasn't a request. Vince flashed a glare at the Director before he took the left chair, while the woman snapped an almost unnoticeable glance at Jack from the corner of her eye before she too sat. Jack knew he should be intimidated; Not only was Vince much more muscled than last time they'd seen each other, and just judging by their physique they had just as much combat training as Jack did, likely more. Of course Jack had helped a race of sentient robots win their billion year old civil war and become an honorary Prime along the way. That had to count for something right?

Fowler nailed the new arrivals in their seats with a glare, then led Jack back out into the hallway and closed the door behind them.

"Now whats this all about Jack?" He asked like a man who'd been interrupted, so the young agent decided not to waste his time.

"Raf picked up a new Energon signature. British Isles. Ratchet thinks it could be a ground-bridge activa."

"Go," Fowler cut him off, "Send Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Skylynx. The sooner we get this Con problem taken care of the better." Jack nodded, a little annoyed that he wasn't being told to saddle up with them but his ride was still being fixed and he was still a mummy from the eyebrows up. He settled on a simple nod, then took off back the way he came, leaving Fowler to return to his briefing.

* * *

Dynomo glanced between his daughter and the younger teenager and Autobot medic currently re-hot-wiring the laptop and ground bridge control circuits respectively.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" He asked.

"Yeah," Miko sighed, "But usually Bulk is the one breaking stuff and I'm the one running ooofffff" She stuttered when she realized what almost came out of her mouth. "To, the uuhhh..."

"Miko Nakadai," Her father started just as they heard tires squealing to a stop outside, then hurried footsteps as Jack rushed back in and up the stairs to the ground bridge controls.

"Fowler gave the go ahead. He said to...wait," He said looking around the hangar and noticing an absence. "Where's Wheeljack?" Ratchet scowled in his usual manner.

"Relapsing into old habits," he spat irately, the ground bridge sparking where he was working on it. "Blast!" Jack groaned and turned to the usual suspect.

"Mikoooo!"

"Don't look at me Jack-Knife!" The Japanese teen said throwing up her hands in defense, "I had nothing to do with it!...This time."

"She's tell'n de truth," Rodney said, defending his niece, "Dragon boy came in right after yous left. He had dis reaaaly weird look in his eyes and said he needed te use de ground bridge right away." Jack had a sinking feeling he knew what the Directors reaction was going to be when he found out their newest arrival was already trying to get them on the front page of the London Times.

"Did he say why?"

"Noooot really," Rodney admitted, "Only dat someone was in trouble somewhere, Personally, I'd be more concerned bout how he knew where it was."

"Where what was?"

"The ener-whatsit signal. Sky just stormed in and literally pointed to where he wanted de kid to send him!"

"I am not a kid!" Raf shouted in a way that wasn't convincing anyone. Rodney just continued as if he hadn't heard the young teenager.

"You mean," jack said skeptically, "That Skylynx just walked in here, and asked to be bridged to the exact coordinates of the energon signal without you guys telling him anything? AND YOU JUST LET HIM GO?!"

"EY! You wanna try say'n no to a six story building with teeth!? Be my guest!"

"Ah man," jack groaned looking at the clearly fried ground bridge. He considered alerting the medical staff to get the infirmary ready for when Fowler found out about this latest development.

* * *

**Okay, one last note for my fans: So far the most popular theory has been than Miko and her father are pretenders IE transformers wearing techno-organic exo-skins to let them appear human but still be cybertronian on the inside. **

**Sorry, nope not the case, and if you've been following the story this is going to make sense. I hope. (crosses fingers)**

**In chapter 8 Ratchet mentioned how some transformers had to heal themselves by scanning a new alt mode, and that they weren't always around the block from a car or plane dealership. And before you say it I know! How can a 20 something foot tall robot transform into a tiny human? **

**The same way Arcee can have an alt mode smaller than her leg.**

**And Yes, Miko's Uncle Rodney is meant to be a humanized Rattrap.**


	12. Chapter 11: Ouch

_"AND YOU JUST LET HIM GO?!"_

_"EY! You wanna try say'n no to a six story building with teeth!? Be my guest!"_

_"Ah man," Jack groaned,_ just as Henry walked in with a fresh steaming bag of popcorn. He reached up and rewound the live feed back a few minutes to catch up on what he had missed, then lazily sat back in his chair and propped his sandaled feet up beside the computer monitor, upsetting on of many piles of clutter in the process. He watched the feed, grabbing a wad of oily popcorn and shoving in his mouth as the Nakadai's began their sweet moment, making the inventor want to gag on his snack.

Sure he could understand the appeal of heartfelt father daughter bonding by grief moments, but frankly he'd hacked into the feed for some promo sci-fi spy footage, not soap-operas. Leaning forward, he clicked past the emotional parts until Jack left the hangar to get the Director, then reclined back as Raf wired his laptop to the ground-bridge just as Skylynx barged in. He was at least going to enjoy the fruits of his labor after all the time it took to hack the feed.

Yeah he probably should be in his lab back in the hangar, but sticking around for the emotional spillage in person just felt, wrong somehow. Contrary to popular belief Henry did have something resembling a sense of decency, even if it was only just. He saw what Miko, Jack, and Raf had going, that chemistry you needed more than just friendship to create, and he respected that. At least enough that he'd never tried to insert himself into their group, no matter how close The Director put his lab to the Ground Bridge portal. Besides, the last thing they needed was him coming to them with the mess he called a life at the moment while they still had all this Decepticon crud on their hands. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when his monitor shifted ever so slightly before his cursor no longer responded to the mouse in his hand.

"Ah frag," Henry groaned, reluctantly retrieving his headset and plugging in the microphone. He didn't have to wait long before a distorted synthesized voice crackled in his ear.

"Well well well," the filtered voice drawled in a midwestern accent its owner managed to keep despite. "You have been the busy little bee haven't you?"

"Waddaya want Tar?" Henry whined, "I'm in the middle of something."

"Oh I can see that," Tar's warped voice smirked, cursor moving over the video feed. "Its good to know you can do _something_ right for a change." Henry growled and ground his teeth together.

"If you and your Boss had given me more tech to work with, or stable Energon God forbid, then maybe you'd still have a laAAAAAHHHH!" Henry screamed as his back arched, white hot electrical currents jolting up and down his body as a tiny square glowed red beneath the skin of his right shoulder.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Always making excuses aren't we Henry," Tar mocked calmly as the pain from the shock subsided. "I do hope you remember what happens if you disappoint us again." Henry wanted so badly to tear into the little weasel on the other end of the transmission, but he didn't want another shock anytime soon.

"Don't worry," the inventor said numbly, "I'll make sure they don't find out about the hacked feeds."

"Aaaannnndd?" He could almost see Tar's finger poised over the remote trigger for the shock chip.

"And," he said carefully, "I'll make sure Fowler's suit is delayed until yours are up and running. I've already sent the new specs over. You can check the email."

"I already have, they are most impressive." Henry didn't want to admit it, but he was a little anxious to know how the other suits were progressing. And as with all tech geeks, his curiosity won out.

"If you don't mind me asking."

"I do actually," Tar snapped coldly, shutting the inventor up before a sick smile crept back into his tone. "Now, be a good little saboteur and go back to your lab. Must keep up appearances you know, and you've a suit to not finish. Ta-ta Henry." With that the connection ended, and Henry found his computer back under his control. He turned off the monitor and slumped forward, head held in his hands as he massaged his temples.

"Dammit Masterson," he cursed to himself, "How in the world did you ever let your life get this fragged?" He knew the answer of course. His life had gone to the pits the night he found that purple caddy in the rocks behind his neighbors house. Why couldn't he have just left well enough alone. He knew why, because an alien robot civil war and government spy rings beat video games and stale chips in your mom's basement hands down any day.

'Speaking of which,' Henry thought, sliding back from his computer desk and setting his popcorn aside before hopping to his feet. He walked across the small bedroom, floor strewn with used clothes of all shapes and unmentionable varieties before he reached a small door, half barricaded behind a bookshelf full of technical manuals and magazines and a pile of unknown cloth horrors. He pushed the obstacles aside, then reached down the front of his shirt and retrieved a key attached to his neck via a small silver chain. In less than a second he had unlocked and opened the door, only to spend twice as much time searching for the light switch.

"Come on," Henry grumbled, "Who keeps moving this blasted, Aha!" He exclaimed when his fingers found purchase and flipped the single light bulb glowed overhead. He closed the door behind him and spared a moment to take in what stood in front of him. The walk in closet had been converted into a make shift mini lab, complete with welders, holo projectors, everything he needed to get his own model up and running without either big brother knowing.

He looked over the frame, wires still exposed in a few places, but otherwise concealed beneath the primary layer of gunmetal grey plating. He took another plate from one of the shelf he had screwed into the closet walls, looking at his distorted reflection in the dull dark magenta metal, then turned his eyes up at the hastily drawn schematics he had been able to gleam from his last net chat. He paused a moment to realize just how low he'd allowed himself to sink, but frankly he hadn't been that far up on the morality ladder to start with, and if it meant getting his freedom back he knew he'd do anything.

Even if it meant trading one evil for another and bluffing blind to show these noobs that nobody owned him.

* * *

The tranquility of the British hills were once again shattered by a ground-bridge portal, and screaming.

"HOLY!" Jack yelped when he he'd come charging out of the ground-bridge only to stumble on the steep slope and wet grass, Miko close behind.

"WHOA!" Miko cried as she went tumbling after Jack down the hill, a third larger form darting past them both, details only reemerging when they had rolled to a stop near the bottom. "Ugh," Miko groaned, sitting up and brushing bits of grass and stray flowers from her hair and clothes. "Someone needs to upgrade that mapping software on the bridge." Jack jumped to his feet, popping his neck as he stretched.

"Well don't look at me," the young agent said gruffly, spitting a wad of green from his teeth and brushing more plant life from his red jacket sleeve, "I just run through the thing."

"I wonder then," Dynomo said calmly, standing from where he had landed in a graceful crouch compared to the younger two's heaps "What would happen when you're Medic and programmer were suddenly unable to perform their duties?"

"Well, I um," Jack stuttered as Miko and her father walked past him.

"Or, when I'm not there to save your aft again?" She chided, making Jack realize something very depressing.

"Great, Two of them," He grumbled getting back on his feet, quickly checking his sidearms, twin colt 45's, hidden in their shoulder holsters under his jacket. He scanned the area with his eyes, taking out his phone and pulling up the app Raf had created to let them patch into the Autobots comm frequencies. "Wheeljack? Wheeljack are you out there? Scrap nothing." Miko looked at the clouds gathering overhead in the waning twilight, while her Father only grimaced at the sound of distant thunder.

"This place is not long for a storm," he said darkly, "But it is far to distant to interfere." Miko looked up and around at the rolling hills, sighed when she didn't find what she was looking for.

"So why can't we call them? And more importantly, How does something as HUGE as Skylynx not leave any footprints?" Her best friend just shrugged.

"Maybe something else is blocking the transmission." But this only caused Miko to throw up her arms.

"WHAT SOMETHING?!" She yelled waving at the open, brightening countryside. "There's nothing here but dirt and grass!"

"One of the first phrases I learned after arriving here," Dynomo said, maintaining his sage like tone, "Don't judge a book by its cover. Much like cybertron, there is often more to the land than what meets the eyes." Jack smiled slightly at the impromptu casualness of the situation. Granted Miko was by no means back to her normal bubbly self and might not ever be again, but it seemed Her uncle had been right. Letting them tag along to find their AWOL friends was distracting them from their grief for the time being, although he wasn't entirely sure the results were worth it.

"Maybe," Jack said nervously, "They decided they could see more from the air and took of together?" Both Nakadai's did an about face and gave him the same 'are-you-for-real' look. "It could happen," The young agent insisted as Miko started to laugh under her breath at the thought of Wheeljack riding Skylynx like something out of a bad fantasy movie.

"Perhaps," Her father sighed, rolling his eyes dismissively, "but unlikely. From what I have observed of him, this Predacon is far to proud to allow himself to be utilized as a steed of any sort." Jack made a mental note to pry Miko about her Fathers over the top speech later, but said young womans frustrated roar grabbed his immediate attention.

"GRRRRR! Where are they?!" She yelled, plating starting to shift to the surface of her skin as her temper rose.

"Miko," Her father warned, "Calm yourself." the japanese teen steadied herself, taking deep breaths as her skin slowly folded itself back over her plating. Jack made yet another note to make sure Ratchet gave Miko a thorough examination, just to know if she was gonna turn into a full size transformer the next time they set her off.

"Sorry," Miko sighed, still frustrated but now more at herself than anything. "I'm just mad we ain't seen any Cons yet." Jack gave his friend a knowing look, eyes lingering on her right arm.

"You really want to try out that blaster don't you?"

"Hey, I'm a Wrecker remember," Miko started, arm in question transforming with her gesture, "Thats means I'm here to kick aft, take names, and." Her bravado vanished however the moment she realized what she had just said. She paled as she turned to meet her fathers glare, his arms crossed while his fingers drummed against his arm.

"Exactly how long have you known Team Prime?" Dynomo asked in the flat tone he reserved for getting a confession out of his daughter.

"Since, well since I started going to Jasper really," She admitted, but her father never flinched. Jack decided to give the two their privacy for a moment, and focused himself on the ground beneath his feet. Maybe there was something to point them towards Skylynx and Wheeljack.

"And how long have you been accompanying them into the field?" Miko only looked more nervous, if that was even possible, as Jack brushed his hands over the grass, cool blades rubbing against his palm, only to suddenly give way to a strange pixelated flicker.

"Well you see, uh hehe, funny story about that." But before the conversation could go any further.

"Hey!" Jack called from just left of the Nakadai's. "Found something." Dynomo looked at his daughter, his own rendition of every parents, 'you're-not-off-the-hook-yet-missy' glare before they walked over to the young agent. "Look," he said waving his hand through the grass, the green shoots flickering slightly as he did.

"A hologram," Miko groaned kicking herself, infuriated at the simple deception.

"And feel the ground. Its not normal either." Dynomo knelt down to touch the "grass", hand passing right through to a spongy moving surface.

"Any idea what it is?" Jack asked.

"Hardlight camouflage," Dynamo said matter of factly, "A combination of holograms and programmable surface replicators favored by smugglers." Jack looked up at the field surrounding them.

"This stuff must go for miles."

"Unlikely," The elder Nakadai scoffed, "a hardlight system is only effective when it conceals small areas. Anything larger than an average Cybertronian, and the hologram becomes unstable." Miko gave her father a confused look, never expecting him to know so much about any kind of technology, but Dynomo shrugged it off. "One tends to learn certain things whilst wandering between planets for centuries on end."

"Thats why there aren't any tracks!" Miko said in anticipation, "Jacky and Skylynx must've come running out of the Bridge so fast they fell through before they knew what was happening!"

"Fell through what?" Jack asked confused.

"The door genius!" she answer in a duh tone. "Why else would someone go to the trouble of setting all this up?"

"That seems logical," Her father nodded, "The entrance to an energon mine mayhaps?"

"Whatever it is," Jack said standing, looking toward the rising sun, "We need to move fast. The locals are gonna be awake soon, if they aren't already."

"The boy is right," Dynomo agreed, though his choice of words irked the agent more than a little, though that was the least of their worries. "MIKO! Get back here!"

"Why?" she asked inocently, walking further out into the field, holograms flickering only just as she stepped over the illusion. "We're not gonna find anything just standing around."

"There is a reason Hardlight systems are illegal!" he father retorted, understandably panicked. "For all you know you could walk right into a pit of snakes!" Her father wasn't the only one concerned.

"Come on Miko," Jack called after her, "This isn't funny!"

"Will you two lighten up!" She yelled back, tone reclaiming some of its care free signature. "Come on, whats the worst that could happEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNN!" Miko's word turned into a yell when she suddenly dropped into the hologram and vanished from sight, before the two still on the surface heard a dull metallic thud from deep below.

"MIKO!" Her father yelled rushing up to the spot where his daughter had disappeared, Jack cursing right behind him. "Miko! Can you hear me?! Are you all right?!"

"Uuugghh, I'm fine," She groaned from somewhere under the holographic field. "Wow, dark down here. Hey dad, don't transformers have some kind of night vision or something?"

"No," was his curt answer, "Though there might be a scouting system in your servo."

"Right, now how does this thing work, YOW That's bright!"

"Well," Jack sighed, "I think its safe to say she found it." Dynomo groaned, while below, his daughter was in awe.

"Wooow, you guys should see this! These tunnels are huge! Like, Predacon huge!" Jack remained focused on Miko's voice while her father got to his feet. "Come on down, the cave is fine!"

"Gee I would love too Miko," Jack said, not sparing any sarcasm, "But I seem to have left my cave diving gear back at." Dynomo suddenly stepped forward, then fell forward, vanishing down into the hologram just as Miko had. "Base."There was another dull thud, then cheering from Miko about sticking the landing.

"Right," Jack said putting his feet under him and standing near what he assumed was the edge. "No problem. Just falling down a black pit for I don't know how far to a bottom I can't see through a door I can't see." He shook his head and laughed a little, "Just another day at the office." He steeled his nerves and stepped forward, holding his breath when he didn't fall into oblivion right away. Deciding the door had to be right in front of him, he sucked in one last breath, and jumped forward, which would have worked.

If his heel hadn't caught on the ledge and sent him tumbling end over end into the hole.

* * *

"And this is the mess." Fowler waved through the open doors of the more or less school style cafeteria, which failed to impress the two recruits. "Next up is Hangar E," he said, not missing the sudden gleam in both of the recruits eyes. "Thats where you'll meet our primary field agents." He quietly counted his lucky stars and stripes that these two had more military training in them than the last batch, and thus knew when to keep their mouths shut and let their CO do the talking.

"Now keep in mind most of these guys didn't start out Military like you, but they've been through a lot together and they've been getting the job done right for a good while now."

"Director!" Fowler looked to his left, only to scowl halfheartedly as he saw the crisp oxford suit and its owner approaching. He looked at the recruits.

"You go on ahead to the motor pool, I'll be right behind you." The red headed army recruit snapped a salute.

"Yes Sir," Vince said before walking away. The female navy recruit didn't salute, only gave him that penetrating stare Fowler knew he would soon be familiar with, then turned to follow Vince. Fowler sighed, not on base an hour and he was already positive his plan wasn't going to go well. How could it when it required sticking three alpha dogs in the same pack?

"Director," The suited man repeated, now much closer and fully recognizable as one of the Regents, specifically the third, quieter member of the three.

"Sir," he said, saluting by reflex more than anything.

"Not here," The older man said shaking his head, laughing slightly. "Out of that room I'm just another over payed paper pusher." His body language loosened, no longer the controlled ice block it had been in the de-briefing. He even loosened his tie a little, just enough to expose the tattooed head of an american eagle on his collar bone. In a single moment a regent had been replaced with an old friend, and Fowler couldn't help but smile.

"How've you been Ace?" He asked shaking the fellow Ranger vet's hand.

"All things considered," He sighed, glancing around, "Not too bad. You certainty ruffled a few feathers back there." The director only scoffed.

"Yeah well they can kiss my red white and blue back side for all I care. No offense."

"None taken," Ace laughed, "Though it wouldn't hurt for you to be a little nicer to them for a change."

"Then what?" He asked sarcastically, "Should I start work'n on a dance number too? You and I both know those two are vultures."

"No _We're_ politicians," Ace rebutted sharply, "that means we're cheaters and lairs, and whenever we're not kissing baby's, we're stealing their lollipops. But," He added quietly, "I'm also a Ranger, and that means I work with what I've got and don't waste time whining bout what I don't. You're planning something."

"That obvious?" Fowler asked, not liking that one of the regents, even if it was a friend, knew he was up to something.

"Was Washington honest?" Ace laughed back. "I know you're the Director and all now, but you don't just ask for two military personnel transfers for no reason. Christ I can't imagine what it took you to get a hold of those two."

"Just calling in a few old favors. Listen, Ace, just how much do the?"

"Other Regents know?" he finished for him. "They know your latest recruits graduated near the top of their classes and were being lined up for their own separate court martials for falsifying personal information." He paused, face and tone darkening. "And that both had family in Jasper." Fowler hid the pang of guilt that threatened to explode of his face, covering it with practiced numbness.

"We evacuated the town as quickly as we could," he said distantly, "Any casualties were at the bare minimum."

"Don't give me that crap Will" Ace dead panned. "We all read the report. At least five dozen people never made it through the E-vac check points, and even when our boy's could get back into the town."

"If you got something to say spit it out," Fowler barked, loosing both his cool and composure. His friend stopped, tone shifting to avoid biting in further to the former rangers guilt.

"...Loosing a loved one to someone else's war is hard," He said, speaking from cold experience. "But you learn to live with it ... eventually" Fowler's voice was likewise numb.

"People can live with a lot of things."

"Yeah," Ace admitted solemnly, "But burying seven empty coffins isn't one of them."

* * *

"Ow." That was the best way Jack could describe how he was feeling at the moment. Fair considering he'd just landed flat on his back on a floor that might as well have been steel. He felt two strong arms lifting him to a sitting position, then recognized the almost glowing green eyes of Miko's father.

"Easy," the elder Nakadai said, "You're landing was not a graceful one."

"Yeah," Jack groaned, stretching and popping his back. "I can tell." He had just regained feeling in his chest when a blinding search light blazed into existence.

"MIKO!" Dynomo barked, shielding his eyes, "Do try not to point that in our faces!"

"Sorry Dad," The japanese hybrid said, aiming her blaster and search light up. The white light reflecting off the dull grey slate gave Jack a chance to see how deep in the earth they were. It turned out to be just a bit more than a two stories, and considering he had landed flat on his back, Jack was amazed none of his bones were broken.

"Any way Come on!" Miko said waving the others towards the tunnel behind her, "It looks like Draco and Jacky went this way!" Both men hopped to their feet and followed the young woman into the dark, her light leading the way through the dripping dank cavern. Jack immediately noticed the utter blackness.

"Cons must've cleaned this place out good," He remarked glancing over the walls ahead of Miko. "Not even a scrap of Energon left." Dynamo was trailing behind the younger two, right arm reached back, hand fingering his swords hilt nervously, the other brushing along the walls and feeling the rock.

"I do not believe this was a mine Agent Darby," he said, clearly anxious. "The walls are much too smooth. The stone bears no tool marks." Jack mulled over this, running scenarios through his head that would lead to the cons bridging to and camouflaging a cave entrance in the middle of Wales. But before he could come up with one that actually made sense, he noticed their guiding light had stopped.

"Miko," Her father said walking up to his daughter, confused and concerned. "What is it?"

"I don't know," She said quietly, looking at the walls around them, "Its just, This place feels...familiar somehow." She knew she'd never been in this cave before, but there was an air about it all the same. A quiet, almost murmuring thrum that seemed to waft through the damp air, not unlike the atmosphere of the shrine.

"Yes," her father purred, twinges of his cybertronian accent slipping through. "I feel it as well. The earth breathes as if alive, and beats like a drum." However, his poetic musing was interrupted by a roar like scraping metal. A roar Miko immediately recognized as that of a Predacon.

"They're this way!" She yelled, rushing down the tunnel, light bouncing erratically as she ran while the others sprinted to catch up. Their shoes slipped and slid on the damp cave floor, and jack nearly fell when he came round a corner too fast, but caught himself before he dropped completely. It was after that he saw the glow of fire ahead of them, and in a few moments they recognized the hulking form of Skylynx's beast mode. The dragon former was throwing everything he had at the wall before him, but whatever it was that blocked his path was not yielding.

"Dudes," Miko yelled, finding Wheeljack taking cover further back in the cave from Skylynx. "Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden?" All she got from the Wrecker was a dry laugh as her arm resumed a human appearance.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing." He and the humans ducked behind the out cropping as Skylynx let loose another stream of fire. "I've been trying to get a hold of the hatchet for almost a megacycle. What gives?" The wreckers optics narrowed when he saw Miko's father, but Dynomo was more concerned with more immediate issues.

"Our communications are being blocked then. We could neither communicate with you or the base." Jack turned his attention to Skylynx, who had stopped his flame throwing long enough to give the young agent a clear view of what he was firing at: A massive metal door clearly built to the most accommodating of cybertronian proportions, one that seemed to have enraged their resident Predacon.

"ROOOAAAAHHHH!" Skylynx roared, transforming to finish the cry in robot mode as he pounded his claws on the still warm metal. "Break you insolent piece of scrap! BREAK!" He kept hitting the door over and over again, but Wheeljack could only shake his helm.

"Poor kids been at it since we got down here. You'd think his sparkling was on the other side or something." Dynomo shot the larger cybertronian a venomous glare, but oddly enough his daughter chose that moment to have an idea.

"I know," She said excitedly, jumping out of cover and sprinting away before Her dad or Jack could grab her.

"Miko!"

"What are you doing?!"

"Trust me," She smiled back over her shoulder, though it was more of a devious smirk. "This is gonna be a blast." Jack hoped against reason she wasn't being literal. "HEY LIZARD LIPS!" Skylynx whirled around, looking for the source of the name. "Down here."

"Huh? Oh," he said finally noticing Miko, "Its you again." But the small hybrid took the predacon's prickly demeanor in stride, rocking back on her feet.

"You know," Miko said innocently, "if you're having trouble breaking down that door, why not just smash it in dragon mode? You are a lot stronger that way aren'tcha?"

"Of course I am," He said, chest plates puffing out a little. "There is nothing more devastating than a Predacon in Beast mode." But Miko wasn't entirely convinced.

"Uh huh, so tell me; Why isn't that door scrap yet." Skylynx only growled and turned away, then resumed bashing his hands on the still very sealed door, and Miko waited until he was ventilating hard. "You know," she said baiting the predacon, "breaking down that door would be a lot easier if..."

"If what?" Skylynx asked eagerly when the girl stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Nevermind," Miko said dismissively, "I probably wouldn't have worked anyway."

"Oh," Skylynx said looking back to the door, but his face plates and voice had given him away. For whatever reason He was desperate to get inside, and now Miko had him right where she wanted him.

"Weeeelllllll," She smirked, dangerously now. "It might juuust work but."

"But what?!" Skylynx shouted back and down at the smaller half cybertronian.

"It could work, but you have to exactly as I say. Got it?" To be fair, Skylynx did pause for a moment to consider his options. But it wasn't a very long moment.

"All right, what do you have in mind?" Miko's grin took on a whole new dimension, one Jack recognized from last year on April fools day.

'Oh Primus,' he thought, scooting further into cover. 'The prank grin.'

"Okay, here's the plan," Miko grinned rubbing her hands together. "First you gotta transform." Skylynx did so, then looked at her, the question of "what next," on his draconian face-plates. "Now, face the wall and walk towards it. You'll have to be riiight in front of it." The predacon gave her a confused look, but did as instructed and walked until he was mere feet away from the door. "A liiiittle closer." The dragon groaned and stepped closer, muzzle nearly touching the metal surface. "Tiiiiinnnsy bit more." He glared down at her, snarling in his throat but soon obliged, taking a half step forward before. "THAT'S IT! Perfect! Stay right there, and wait for my signal."

She ran back to where the others were hiding, prank grin still slathered all over her face. And it was starting to scare Jack.

"Miko," he started nervously, a sentiment echoed by her father.

"Whatever it is you're planning," he said warningly and knowingly, "it had better work."

"Oh it will," she smirked, right arm transforming back to its blaster mode as she poked out from behind the outcropping and took aim, mumbling to herself: "Dog goes woof, cat goes meow, bird goes tweet. But what," She asked lining her barrel up with the plating just below the base of Skylynx's tail. "Does the dragon say?"

Skylynx had just realized Miko hadn't told him what to do when she gave the signal when said signal hit him right between the skid plates, and his optics shot to the size of satellite dishes.

He howled in pain, rearing up on his hind legs like a stallion before falling forward, front claws planting themselves on the door as one thousand tons of Predacon came crashing down on it.

"BOOYAH!" Miko cheered, jumping up and down as a cloud of dust erupted at the door, enveloping Skylynx completely. Dynomo and Jack could only stare slack jawed at what she had just done, while Wheeljack, in typical Wrecker fashion, threw his helm back and laughed. Hard.

Shockingly the humor of the joke was lost on Skylynx.

"WHEN I GET MY CLAWS ON YOU HALF-BREED! **THERE WON'T BE ENOUGH LEFT TO CALL S**Cra..." Miko was too excited, and Wheeljack was still laughing too hard, but Dynomo and Jack noticed when Skylynx's voice trailed off within the cloud. The two men shared a quick glanced at each other, and drew their respective weapons. Jack reached into his jacket and pulled out his pistols, while Dynamo gripped his sword as the two advanced. Miko came off of her victory high just in time to see the two men walking toward the now open door, and with Wheeljack, quickly followed. Wheeljack got to his pedes and took point, blasters ready and charging as his battle mask slid over his lower face plates.

"Skylynx?" He called, slowly walking through the dissipating dust cloud lingering at the doorway. "Sky, what is it?" He frowned when no answer came, and looked back to tell the humans to stay outside, but instead of the scared children he remembered, he found two young adults and a much changed but familiar mech armed and ready. They walked inside, over the threshold, but nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

"Oh my God," Jack gasped, gun barrels dipping when he saw the room behind the door. Even with only the small light of Wheeljacks scouting light for illumination, he could see the cybertronian sized computer terminals lining the walls, along with the countless dissection assemblies and stasis chambers attached to them. Dynomo growled in his throat, jumping and turning to look for some unseen enemy.

"This cannot be" He said, very real fear creeping onto his face.

"It is," Wheeljack frowned, recognizing the rooms morbid aesthetic hallmarks. "Shockwave."

"Hold up," Miko said looking at her fellow Wrecker, "You told us you had Shockwave all locked up on Cybertron."

"We do, but the cyclops has a thing for multiple labs." Dynomo growled as he too recognized the familiar signs.

"The human term for it, I believe," He spat, "Is a fetish." Miko would have laughed at her fathers choice of words, had she not seen Skylynx standing off to himself in a far corner of the lab.

"Hey, Lizard lips," She called, but the predacon remained rooted to the spot. "Skylynx?" She asked, activating her scouting light and walking over to him. "Skylynx, yoo-hoo!" Still nothing. She followed his optics fixed stare, then felt her own breath catch.

There in front of them was another console, connected by thick wires to a trio of enormous stasis chambers, each easily large enough to hold a predacon. Two were sealed, the one on the left still holding within it a malformed, disfigured specimen that seemed to be trapped between beast and robot mode, face plates twisted in agony. The one beside it, the middle chamber, was drained and empty, but the third was shattered, glass strewn across the floor around it. It had been broken from the inside. Miko looked up at the red white and blue Predacon, understanding more by the minute.

"Skylynx?" This time her soft voice broke his trance, and he looked down at her. "You remember this lab, don't you?"

"...Yes," He finally said, though his tone was anything but certain. "I, have seen this place before." He said walking up to the still occupied chamber, gently placing a clawed hand on the glass. "I couldn't save them."

"Ah don't beat yourself up kid," Wheeljack said dismissively, investigating the labs main computer. "That things probably been dead for solar cycles now."

"_She_," Skylynx hissed as if struck again. "Her name was Ripclaw." He looked at the Predacon femme trapped with her chamber, then roared as he swung his shifting arm at it, mace appearing milliseconds before it shattered the stasis chamber. And the same moment that Wheeljak managed to reactivate the main terminal.

"There," He said, energon flowing through the terminals circuits and activating the holo screen. "Now, lets see what the mad doc was up to." He selected the first file he saw and engaged the audio.

"Shockwave's Log, Lab report 19-86: Project Predacon sub Terra, is a failure."


	13. Chapter 12: Like a Bad Penny

**After I saw Transformers 4 I realized I had a big problem. Megatron is gone, and without him the decepticons have no true leader. Soundwave is an uncrassimatic mute bore, and Motormaster is just too brutal to hold anyone but his own squad in line. So what to do about a new con leader? Glavatron? Nah. The idea of Megatron revived as another bot entirely has always left a bad taste in my mouth ever since I was introduced to the tradition by the Armada cartoon. And I'd like to think I've got the self destructive slave driver angle covered already.**

**Then I hit on a new idea, well not really new considering Transformers has done pretty much everything possible for a science fiction series, but one I think will work without too much tweaking and complicating. **

* * *

_"Shockwave's Log, Lab report 19-86: Project Predacon sub Terra, is a failure."_

Jack listened closely as the recording played, though his eyes continued to wander the laboratory, wary of anything jumping out at them. Dynomo had his sword raised similarly, though he was mindful of not only his surroundings but his daughters as well.

"Indeed," Shockwaves cold emotionless voice continued unabated. "It would appear I underestimated the environment my creations were tasked with patrolling. Initial scans and examinations of the fossilized Predacon remains present on Earth reveal the CNA within the fossils to be incompatible with established cloning methods. What material I have been able to extract from recovered samples indicate a severe breakdown of the cyber nucleic acids contained within, likely a result of the drastic recent changes to the planets atmosphere and ecology brought on by human activity. My only logical option is to extract the purest cyber material from each sample, concentrate and manipulate it into a workable cyber sequence."

"Huh," Wheeljack remarked tilting his helm slightly. "How bout that? Guess all you human's disgusting habits is good for something after all."

"Yeah," Miko said, right before she put two and two together. "Hey!" But while her father smiled at the joke, Skylynx was oblivious to it. The reason was not long lost on Miko, who was truthfully more focused on the predacon than any other single thing.

The Predacon knelt down beside the still fluid soaked corpse of the deceased femme clone, Ripclaw, his mace shifting back into a servo before he hesitantly placed it on the smaller predacon's unmoving chest plates over her spark chamber. He paused, as if listening for something he knew he would not find, before moving his hand up over her face plates, and passed it over them, closing her optics. If the tender act wasn't enough, the similar shades of blue and red plating the predacons shared convinced Miko.

"You're related," She said, realizing Skylynx was standing over what was proably the closest thing he had to a sister.

"We're clones," He replied with cold acceptance. "We're all related." He shook his helm, then wiped a claw over his optics. Miko briefly wondered if Predacons could cry like humans did, before Skylynx found his voice again. "Is there any more?"

"Hold your horsepower kid," The wrecker said sifting through the data files, "I'm look'n. Case you haven't noticed, Shockwave really likes the sound of his own vocalizer." Jack had slowly begun to tune the recordings out, instead focusing on the other sounds in the massive room. Particularly a dripping sound too slow and thick in sound to be made by water seeping in from the natural cavern.

"Lab Report 20-01:" Shockwaves voice droned again. "Genetic reconstruction of the samples has proven successful, but inefficient. Trials yielded but one functional subject, which suffered from impairments of the audio, visual sensors as well as lacking finer motor functions in the left front servo. I must reevaluate my methods yet again if future clones are to be viable." It took only a moment after the recording finished that Miko voiced the unanimous confusion

"This doesn't make sense. If cyclops was having trouble getting the clones to work, how did he crank out so many at that other lab?" But no sooner had she spoken than Wheeljack opened the next recording.

"Lab report 20-07: I have devised a procedure to compensate for the degraded CNA. By utilizing various sequences of deoxyribo nucleic acids from the genetic structures of this planets native life forms, I have been able to complete a great number of CNA sequences by inserting these DNA sequences into the gaps present in the CNA stands."

Jack turned slightly, then stepped back twice, before he felt something slick ooze under his foot. He turned around, pulling away a considerable amount of dark green slime stuck to his shoe before trying to shake it off before looking up. His stomach turned when he saw the Insecticon head dangling from its body by a single fuel line, bent horn hanging over the end of the table like a broken flagpole. He side stepped closer to the console as Shockwave's recording droned on.

"Now that Lord Megatron's legion is developing to maturity, I find myself vexed by a query: To what extent are the cyber nucleic acids found in cybertronian physiology compatible with their carbon based organic counterparts here on Earth? To answer this I shall introduce varying degrees of organic matter into three as of now partially developed Predacon clones. It is my current theory that an increase in organic material present in the clones will lead to a decrease in strength and size, but logic dictates I test this theory thoroughly in the event of another outcome."

"Forgive the interruption," Dynomo spoke up the moment the recording finished, "But if my memory continues to serve me, day break is not far off." This got Jack's attention, and the Agent quickly pulled out his phone to check the clock.

"Scrap he's right. We've got ten minutes before full sun-up, and we still have to get back outside to call for a bridge."

"We can't leave!" Skylynx shouted in more of a panic than any had expected from him, "There has to be more data here!" Wheeljack just waved it off.

"Cool your engines, I'm already downloading all the files. Once we're back at base, Raf and Ratch can go over them with a, um," he puased looking down at his fellow Wrecker. "Whats the earth saying?"

"Fine tooth comb," Miko supplied, smiling at Wheeljacks bumbling, only for her grin to vanish when she saw Skylynx once again staring at the frame of Ripclaw. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the Predacon. It didn't matter if his King had used her for a chew toy once, though she was wearing the apex armor at the time. Right now Skylynx was grieving for someone he'd cared for deeply. Just like she was.

"Skylynx?" She called approaching the dragon-former where he stood stock still. "Sky?" She asked again, but still no response. She stepped in front of him, and saw his optics were glassy and distant. "Hey!" She cried, now genuinely concerned as she reached out to touch his foot plating to stir him, "you okay in ther," her question ended the moment she touched his metal, and the room around her seemed to fall away into a black nothing.

_Pain. Agony. Razor sharp tools slicing and prodding at her skin as she screamed in vain hope of reprieve. But it wasn't her voice, it was someone else's. She watched through tear filled eyes as he looked left, desperately trying to wriggle their bloodied arm free if only to grasp toward the unconscious man and woman lying next to them. Instead they were forced to remain still as yet another syringe was pushed through their skin. __Then they were floating, floating up and down, side to side, eyes, optics?, opening briefly to catch a glimpse of a hulking purple demon with one glowing red eye of fire. Then the flames consumed them, rearing back and up with gaping jaws before lunging for their throat._

Miko and Skylynx jolted away from each other, each jumping back to fall on their back ends, eyes and optics wide and glowing, one yellow, the other green. Dynomo was beside his daughter in an instant.

"What happened?" he asked, already checking her for injuries, only for her to pull away just as quickly.

"I'm fine dad," She lied, rubbing her goosebump riddled arms. "Just a little static shock." Dynomo looked his daughters face over, but before he could say anything about the blatant lie.

CRASH! Everyone's attention snapped toward the sound where the dangling Insecticon helm had finally fallen from its perch onto the Agent below.

"Sorry!" Jack said waving from where the head had pinned leg. "My fault." Miko heard her father mumble about clumsy sparklings before walking over to the trapped agent.

"If you intend to injure yourself," he growled, kneeling to grip the underside of the heads slack jaw before lifting it. "Do try to wait until you can do so honorably." Miko rolled her eyes, inadvertently looking back towards Skylynx, the predacon's faceplates shifting between degrees of anxiety, shock, and confusion.

"Noted," Jack grunted, grabbing a loose mandible to help push himself out from under the deactivated head. "Gah!" he yelped slightly, realizing too late the metal was still very sharp and quickly hid the fresh cut from the critical older warrior. He was already reaching for the small first-aid kit he kept with him when Wheeljack finsihed the download.

"Got it," He said, the holo-screen before him flashing green with a completion message. "Lets get outta here. Knowing Shockwave the next thing we bump into will be a self destruct switch."

* * *

"What a dump." Soundwave maintained his composure as he always had since he donned his mask, though the voices owner promised to try his silence to the fullest. The taller than average femme was surveying the main control room with haughty scathing optics, and though her gold paint and burgundy strips had faded from her time locked in stasis underground, she had not lost the condescending glare of her political caste upbringing.

"But I gotta hand it to ya wave." She mocked, voice stripped of its once crisp aristocratic accent. "You sure know how to welcome a girl back from the Pit." Though she was taller than the average cybertronain femme, that was not the only thing differentiating her. She had four wheels instead of the expected two, one pair at her heels, the others embedded side by side in her torso where they made up the bases of her shoulder actuators. She had the occasional automotive paneling visible, such as on her thighs and the doors on her upper arms, along with the plating making up the armor of her torso, glass like panels that likely became her alt modes roof and hood. All soon to change with a new alt mode, once Laserbeak had acquired a set of holo-scans for the Stunitcons to choose from.

"And good Primus," She shrieked, covering his face plates in disgust, a reaction that showed just how long sheh ad been on earth. "What is that smell?!" The "smell" was refined energon stock piles that had been left in their cubes too long and had started to naturally lower in grade. As Cybertronians lacked a defined nose like humans, they relied on sensors in their intake vents for monitoring those aspects of their surroundings. The whiny stunticon femme's were located at the crest of her helm, slats running longways between her central spiked crest, and the two fin like wings arcing back from her audio's.

Soundwave ignored her completely, continuing his silent conversation with Laserbeak over the private comm channels he and his casseticon shared, so it wasn't surprising that he failed to react when Motormaster stomped in either. Apparantly he had been able to hear his comrades complaining from the med-bay.

"Ah slap a muffler on it Dragstrip," He groaned as he trudged past the other cons toward the far side of the command room. Alpha Tarn was a structural joke, a base cobbled together from whatever space debris and wreckage Starscream had been able to get his claws on before Megatron returned from his deep space hiatus. Soundwave had kept the base a secret, not just because it gave him leverage on the cowardly Air Commander, but because he knew his leader would never approve of it being built largely from the ruined hull of the last Prime's last hope for cybertron. The Ark. The glorified cargo hauler's wreck had its benefits however as a back up base. Benefits Motormaster was nonetheless wary of.

"Soundwave," he said glancing back at the comm officer from where he stood before the command rooms monitoring station, i.e. a massive gaping hole in wall. "You said Starscream used this place to hoard energon without Megatron sniffing around." A simple nod of his helm confirmed the Stunticon leaders words. "So how long until that stockpile runs out?" Soundwave didn't bother with a statistic based on rationing and conservation; Motormaster was far too aggressive for that to be viable. Then there was the fact that most of that stash had already degenerated into Low-grade, the rough equivalent of stale alcohol to compare with human substances. Instead he shot low, and recycled an audio file from the war.

"_One metacycle, maybe two."_ Roughly half a human month. The Stunticon commander said nothing, just folded his arms over his chest plate, staring out into space at the blue planet rising over the lunar landscape. He absentmindedly reached up to massage his neck struts, then moved higher to scratch his missing antennae as Dragstrip came up behind him.

"So," She started coldly, tone icy like the view where she stood at his right. "How did the triplets react to becoming twins?"

"Oh the usual," Motormaster shrugged, "screaming, crying, pleading with Primus, followed by more screaming."

"Oh. Okay," she sighed just as casual, not even trying to disguise the way her optics were roaming the truck-formers new frame. He noticed quickly, mangled face plates warping into a smirk.

"See something you like?"

"Hmm, maybe," Dragstrip hummed, strolling around him to his left side. "Those humans didn't do a bad job," she admitted, "You look just like Prime." She smirked, denta showing in a predator grin. "_Too _much like Prime." Without warning Dragstrip roundhouse kicked Motormaster in the helm.

"GAH!" he yelped, left servo flying to his helm where the kick had grazed him, only to find fresh energon flowing from where his remaining antenna had been severed.

"There," Dragstrip smiled, shin and foot armor retracting back over the serrated blades hidden within. "Much better." Motormaster snarled, optics flashing red in rage.

"You Little GLITCH!" He roared, on top of her in moments with one servo clamped around her throat, the other becoming a sword held to her head. But if she was afraid, Dragstrip gave no sign.

"But Mot-y," She pouted playfully, "I thought you liked it when I played rough."

"Give me one good reason," Motormaster snarled, pressing his sword harder against the femme's neck. "Why I shouldn't rip your head off and use it as my new hood ornament RIGHT NOW!"

"Because," She smiled seductively, forcing her hand between the larger stunticons plating and clawing at the sensitive wires underneath. "As much as you hate me, you love it. Especially when I do _this_!" Motormaster felt his vocalizer hitch as she flexed her claws, pain and warning messages blazed across his vision and frame, but not so much that he didn't see the similarly agonized expression appearing on Dragstri'ps face plates. The sight brought a twisted smile to his miss-assembled face plates, growling as he shifted his sword, planting the long side of the blade flush to Dragstrips neck.

"The only satisfaction I'll ever get from you, is when I run you through and feel your graying shell at my feet." The femme took it all in stride.

"Don't forget the pump wrenching agony when you tear your own spark in two," She smiled, free servo stroking his helm, coming away stained with fresh energon. Motormaster huffed in disgust, though his optics held pure hunger, then tossed her across the command center like a ragdoll. Dragstrip landed on her feet of course, glaring after her commander and favoring her slightly bleeding neck. She continued glaring daggers at the Stunticon boss as he walked off to another part of the base.

"Mother board Fragger," She spat, walking off on her own to the med-bay to patch her neck, and likely another encounter with Motormaster for the next round of their sick twisted version of fun.

Soundwave cleared his vents and hung his helm. If ever there had been a more self destructive sparkmated pair in the history of Cybertron, Soundwave didn't care to know. He had more pressing matters, such as making sure his estimations went unquestioned, and kept Motormaster unaware of what he had brought back from Shockwaves lab along side the spare parts and tools. The Stunticons didn't need to know about Soundwaves trump card until it was necessary, or if they got out of hand. But he was certain Motormaster would approve, once he saw the terror written on Autobot faceplates when dragon-fire came raining down on them.

* * *

Between Miko becoming lost in the tunnels and Jack It took them half an hour to find their back to the surface, during which an awkward silence developed between Miko and SkylynxAfter Wheeljack finally managed to get a signal through to Ratchet, the away team bridged back to base, only to walk in on a tour.

"And there they are now," Fowler said waving the two recruits over to them as Miko's uncle quickly and quietly pulled Dynomo off to another part of the hangar while Fowler stomped up to Wheeljack. "Tell me, just what kind of thrill do you get running off without telling anyone?"

"Not my idea," The wrecker shrugged, inclining his helm to Skylynx as the predacon stalked by in dragon mode, ignoring the director completely on his way out of the hangar, tail flicking out just far enough to topple the outmost shelves of Masterson's lab. Jack smiled when he saw Vince's face frozen in shock.

"Sir," He began, swallowing hard. "If you don't mind me asking, was that really a?"

"Giant metal dragon? Yeap," he replied curtly. "He's called Skylynx, part of the team from Cybertron here to hunt down the remaining Decepticons. Along with this joker," Fowler said pointing to Wheeljack.

"New fleshies huh?" He said stooping down to get a better look. "Well at least they don't smell like the last one. Names Wheeljack." He extended a servo, one Vince took a moment to look over before grabbing a finger tip and shaking it.

"Vincent Coles," He said politely, before Miko had the same reaction Jack had previously.

"VINCE?!" She shrieked, walking up to the former bully and looking him over. "What the scrap happened to you?"

"Bootcamp," he said folding his well muscled arms over his chest as the Director stepped between the old classmates.

"Agent Darby, Ms. Nakadai, I believe you two remember Staff Sergeant Vincent Coles. The talker," he said pointing the female navy recruit "is Elizabeth Uno, naval aviator." Jack walked up to Vince, both men bristling at the others presence.

"Sergent huh?" he said with no sarcasm spared, "funny. Never pegged you for the type to serve Vince."

"Well you never really struck me as kind to keep alien robots for company Darby." They continued glaring at one another until Fowler stepped in again.

"We'll have to save the full introductions for later. Wheeljack, whadaya have?"

"Not good news thats for sure," The Wrecker grimaced. "Ground-bridge signal led us to one of Shockwave's old labs. Soundwave must've raided it for supplies."

"Any signs of what he took?"

"Maybe some tools and equipment but the mess made it hard to tell what was missing and what wasn't."

"Energon?" Raf asked, looking up from repairing the ground-bridge controls. Wheeljack just shook his head.

"If there was any there its gone now. We also saw evidence that Shockwave was doing some other experiments with Predacon CNA besides the clone army he was building for bucket head." Fowler sighed and hung his head, rubbing his eyes.

"How many _other_ experiments?"

"Three," he said remembering the log, "We found one dead still in its tube. Second was shattered, and the third was empty."

"Wheeljack," Ratchet said stepping around and over the humans at his feet. "I assume you downloaded the labs data-files on your way out? Or did you simply drop a grenade down its access port?"

"Come on Ratchet," the Wrecker smiled inocently, revealing the drive he'd used in the download and handing to the medic. "you know me better than that."

"No. I don't," He returned flatly as he examined the drive. "Was the data in good shape?"

"Some of it was accessible, but those terminals didn't look like they'd been touched in years. Not since we rebooted Cybertron."

"I'll work with Rafael to recover whatever information we can." Ratchet said with a grim look on his faceplates. "Hopefully it will reveal the locations of any other facilities Shockwave established on Earth." Jack felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of more laboratories hiding Primus only knew what locked inside. But the chill reminded him of the cut on his palm, the wound stinging for attention but only made him more determined to hide it.

"Ratchet," Fowler said looking up at the medic, "You mind de-briefing Skylynx? I got something I need to take care of down here." Ratchet nodded slightly, understanding the directors terminology for human matters. He waved Wheeljack to follow, then both Autobots went to Skylynx's hangar, leaving Fowler alone with the recruits, Agent, and Consultant.

"Now," he started, looking between the younger humans in a rehearsed tone, "I'm sure what I'm about to say won't come as much of a surprise, but I need everyone here up to speed. As of O thirteen hundred, Decepticon personnel have resumed operations on Earth. Their goal is currently unknown, though past experience and Intel suggests the Decepticon communications officer known as Soundwave is attempting to reestablish a military presence on our planet."

"And now," Miko smiled, slamming her palm into her open hand, "its up to us to hunt them down and kick their skid-plates all the way back to Cybertron."

"Sorry Miko," The Director said , instantly deflating the girls mood. "Unit:E's running support on this one. Our job will be to conceal all cybertronian activity until Soundwave and his new friend are out of the picture." Apparently the idea of playing second didn't sit well with their army recruit.

"All due respect Sir," Vince said with a tone of respect neither of his classmates had ever dreamed from him as he gestured to himself and the navy pilot beside him, "But if the extent of our ops are gonna be clean up duty, why are we here?" Jack rolled his eyes: that sounded more like the Vince he remembered.

"Because," The Director said flatly,, daring the young soldier to interrupt him again. "While I do appreciate the help every now and then, I don't like the thought of running to Cybertron for help every time a rock falls out of the sky than I do the idea of digging up Abe Lincolns body. Again. The Regents have just about had it with the Autobots, and next time we need help they might not be there to bail us out. Thats why I'm sending the three of you," he said pointing to Jack, Vince, and the red haired pilot, "To Cybertron."

"**WHAT?!**" All four shouted at once, with Jack's voice being loudest.

"But Sir, you said it yourself the only real Con threat is here on Earth."

"Yeah," Vince agreed, "Why send your best fighters halfway across the universe when the fights here on our home turf?" Miko turned on the ex-bully in an instant.

"Whoa-ho, hold up," She scoffed jabbing a finger at Vince's chest. "First off, you are not the best fighter here. That's me! Second, I don't know if you've noticed but you're the new guy around here, _Vinny_."

"Stow it!" Fowler barked, shutting both young adults up, "Both of you! Ms. Nakadai will be remaining here with the other Wreckers to help hunt down the Cons. The rest of you are going to Cybertron for training." For the first time in the whole conversation, the navy recruit spoke up.

"What kind of training?" She asked in a cold voice that Jack found hauntingly familiar.

"The kind thats gonna let you do to the Cons what the GI's did to the Nazis. You'll be learning everything from advanced field strategies to close quarters combat tactics. If we're ever going to defend ourselves, we need to show the Cons we can fight on their terms just as well as ours." Jack quickly saw the sense in the ranger vets plan and found hismelf more than a little excited.

"Fight fire with fire then," he smirked, "Sounds like a plan to me."

"I'm glad you think so," Fowler smirked back, "But remember Agent Darby, this ain't no field trip. I'm counting on you to keep the fresh meat in line off planet."

"Copy that," Jack said, before the words meaning clicked in his brain. "Wait! You mean I'm!?" Vince quickly reached the same conclusion, followed by the navy recruit.

"He's our!?"

"Are you serious!?"

"Dead," Fowler flat-lined at the recruits. "As of right now, Agent Jackson Darby is your commanding officer, and you are all acting ambassadors of Earth. You leave as soon as Masterson."

"WHAT THE FRAK HAPPENED TO MY LAB!?" The directors mood visibly deflated.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Excuse me," Fowler said before turning on his heel and heading off to contain the infuriated inventor. Jack sighed and folded his arms, ready to watch and enjoy the regular argument, before he felt the sweltering heat of the navy recruits glare on him.

"Uhh, hi?" He said nervously. The young woman's scowl didn't abate, she only crossed her arms and began tapping her foot. "Okay, look I know you're mad but I didn't ask for this any more than you did. So for the sake of good first impressions, Nice to meet you," He finished holding out his hand to shake. But the red head's glare never left his face even as she closed the distance between them.

"Really Jack?" She asked with a sardonic tone that would scare Unicron. "So now _you're_ the one not remembering _my_ name?" Suddenly the voice and posture were all too familiar, and every ounce of color left Jack's face.

"SIERRA! I!"

**CRACK!**

Miko and Vince cringed when the red heads fist slammed into Jack's jaw hard enough knock him flat on his back.

"Okay," he groaned favoring his jaw, "I probably deserved that."

"Ya think!?" Sierra shrieked furiously as she stomped over to the dazed Agent and yanked him up by his collar, calm silent demeanor gone.

"Wait Sierra," he pleaded, "I can explain!"

"Explain to this!" She yelled, rearing her fist back only to have it restrained. "Let me go!" But Vince's grip didn't loosen.

"Not until you calm down," He said dragging the kicking female off of Jack. "I don't know what beef you got with Darby but you need to cool it before you get us all sacked! Or have you forgotten why we agreed to join this circus in the first place?" The reminder seemed to calm Sierra down enough to stop struggling, but one look at her face made clear she was by no means happy. "Better," Vince said, letting her down. She quickly smoothed out her uniform's skirt and brushed some unseen dust off her jacket before impaling Jack with a glacial glare.

"We'll talk later," She deadpanned, then immediately resumed her silent icicle demeanor even as the argument across the hangar rose in volume.

"MAKE UP YOUR FRIKK'N MIND!" Henry yelled at the top of his lungs. "First you tell me to cancel the suit you had me building, then you say you want THREE DIFFERENT ONES!? I just now got half of the first suit figured out! Do you have any idea how complex these things are?! I ain't no miracle worker ya know!"

"And I'm not asking you to be," Fowler replied as calmly as his own ire would let him. "I just need to know how long it will take you to get three new suits up and running."

"Two weeks at best, unless Doctor Tailpipe wanted to help" He railed, then started counting off on his fingers. "I've got to wire actuators, neural impulse sensors, every control circuit you can imagine, all of which has to fit in an assembly tailor made to fit one frakk'n person and still transform, INTO A ROBOTS HEAD!" But just as the inventors complaining peaked, Fowler;s phone rang, sending the Director fishing for his cell.

"Fowler," he barked, walking off for some semblance of privacy, giving Henry a new reason to gripe.

"See!" He yelled looking at Miko, Vince, Jack, and Sierra, "THAT is why personal communication devices aren't allowed in my lab anymore!"

"Dude chill," Miko sighed, more than tired of Henry's semi justified whining. "We get it. You're under alotta pressure, but don't be such a drama queen about it."

"Seriously," Vince nodded, only to draw the inventors wrath.

"And just who are you?" he snapped, quickly covering the distance between his lab and the others. Vincent snorted when the smaller man huffed up to him, popping his knuckles. Jack mentally braced himself for the coming mismatch, secretly looking forward to seeing his old bully knock Henry's ego down to size.

"Coles," The army sergeant said, crossing his arms and spreading his legs slightly if just to look more intimdating. "Staff Sergeant Vince Coles."

"Oooohhh, Staff Sergeant, I'm so scared," Henry mocked, "Pah! I bet you're just one of those paper pusher noobs Bird-brain felt sorry for. Tired of desk work huh?" He sneered, jabbing Vince in the chest. "Thought you'd come play with the big boys didja?" Miko could see the muscles rippling under the army recruits uniform, tensing in barely controlled anger. Honestly she was surprised Henry wasn't in a stretcher yet given the way he was talking, but before she could enjoy the show she heard a bird like whistle.

Habit took over, and just like when she was a little girl she went looking for her Father, who had used the same sound every time he needed to get her attention, whether it was sleeping through her alarm clock or a call to dinner. She found him at the opposite end of the hangar, more than far enough to go unheard by the other people inside. Her father and Uncle were standing together, judging by their tired body language they had just finished an unpleasant conversation.

"Miko," Dynomo began, voice slightly hoarse and tears stains forming on his cheeks.

"Yes Dad?" She asked anxiously.

"Roderick has talked with Naoko." Miko's heart sank when she heard her grandmother's name. "She has made the arrangements. We're going home tomorrow to help with the," He swallowed hard, fighting what little tears he had left. "With the preparations for your mothers funeral."

* * *

Location: Svalbard, North of the Arctic Circle, International Maximum Security Prison Complex, Code-name: Tartarus.

They say revenge, like prison food, is a dish best served cold. If that's true, then a craving for it is the gift that keeps on giving.

For five years all he'd known were the four walls stretching up around him like an old withered hand, a paper thin mattress, and a toilet on the opposite wall above which hung the only true furnishing in the room. The frame was small, yet still dwarfed the tiny polaroid within and the four uniformed figures that it centered on. Four men, all in identical combat camo, all smiling and posing for the camera in unwasted pride. That picture had been the only thing he'd been allowed to keep the day he arrived, when the warden had told him he'd be staying in solitary confinement.

"Its for your own good," The balding old man had lied through his teeth. "One look at your face and these psycho's will start getting ideas. The kind that put a shard of glass in your eye when you're sleeping. And frankly I don't think you can afford that."

He scratched the scarred skin surrounding his right eye socket, careful not to brush too close to the damaged organ. An innocent accident by a neighbors ten year old had robbed him of half his sight when he was six, but no matter how much he tried he could never muster the anger for a grudge against either of them. Maybe it was because in the twenty two years since had had seen more with one eye than most ever dreamed of. It was those same wonders that had set his path before him, but that didn't mean he couldn't be delayed from time to time, such as five years ago, when his second had pulled the rug out from under him and banished him to this pit.

He smiled and laughed; the news of Colonel Bishop's disappearance was the best he'd had in three years. And it had only gotten better when his guard slipped him the note in his ration two weeks ago. The timing had given him more than enough time to prepare himself mentally, though he wasn't expecting what turned up with the latest meatball surprise.

He had just finished the day's dinner ration and drink when he heard the guard coming back to collect the tray. He wordlessly slipped into the routine, getting up and walking to the solid steel door before kneeling down and sliding the plastic tray under the tiny slit at the bottom. This time however, the guard slipped something back, a solid block of metal.

He picked up the object, walking back to his bed as he turned the block over in his hands. It looked like a single block of metal, no larger in length or width than your standard aftermarket I-phone but at least twice as thick. He flipped the block over, revealing a finger print sized variation in the seamless metal and a sticky note that read:

So you won't miss out on the fun when the train arrives. Voice command code Terminate. Hugz- mad doc

Suddenly, the walls around him shook as if struck by an earthquake, but the all but muffled sounds of gunfire and exploding ordinance told him this was not the case. Even the heavy metal door locking his cell couldn't keep out the sound of guards running and shouting.

"About bloody time," he smiled, then pressed his thumb to the block's scanner. Next thing he knew, the block shook violently in his hands, before breaking apart and reforming into an insect like robot with two huge eyes bugging out from a tiny head connected by a nearly non existent neck to an equally tiny body.

"Well well" He said quietly, closely watching the tiny machine over as it skittered up his arm on six pointed limbs, "you might just be the most fetching key I've ever seen." The mechanoid clicked up at him, then spun around in his hand toward the door when the shouts outside became more defined.

"Quick! The beacons somewhere on this hall!"

"Here!" He shouted as loud as his disused voice could manage, "In here!" The tiny mechanoid clambered to his shoulder, clicking furiously.

"Come on!" The leaders voice shouted, footsteps clamoring outside his cell. "Sir, stand back!"

"Forget the charges," A gruffer, much more threatening voice barked. "We're on a clock!" The caged man recognized the voice and quickly stepped away from the door. The mechanoid on his shoulder squeaked in terror and hid behind his head as a spiders web of rusting cracks and fractures suddenly spread across the cell's steel door, growing like vines until the whole of the metal surface was run through with the dull red-brown. All it took was a swift kick from outside, and the formerly solid door crumbled like powdered sugar.

"Knock knock," The gruff voices owner sneered, knocking away the remaining shards of the door still clinging to its frame with his hands. He was small in stature but with an aura of biting danger, helped in no small part by his combat slacks and the revolting patches of rust colored flaking flesh covering his arms like gauntlets. "You're a hard man to find," He smiled at the formerly caged prisoner, the man not at all intimidated by his freakish rescuer.

"Ferrex," he smiled, "Good to see you old friend."

"The pleasure is mine Sir," Ferrux said with a slight bow, then gestured to the door, scowling when he saw the tiny robot cowering on the mans shoulders. "I see you found Doc's present in the mail."

"Yes," he said, lifting up a hand and lightly stroking the small mech's head while it clicked happily. "I thought I recognized the good doctors work."

"Tar couldn't wait for us to bust you out to show you what he'd been working on," Ferrox explained with no small amount of contempt, "So he slipped in a little sample with the homing beacon." One of the four soldiers outside the cell suddenly stepped in from the hallway, his face completely hidden behind a full head cowl and goggles.

"Commander, we've got guards moving in from the upper levels." Ferrex cursed and the ex-prisoner frowned.

"I expected a more thorough plan from the likes of you," he said looking at the living rust stain.

"I might've broken out of ten prisons," he smarted, skin cracking and flaking as the rust pattern spread up his arms. "But this is my first time breaking into one. So you'll forgive me If I'm a little."

"Don't finish that joke," He growled, stepping out of the cell.

"Fine," he sulked, "Extraction's waiting up stairs, we just have to get to it."

"Communications?"

"Severed. And since this hell-hole has orders for radio silence, no one will even know you're missing."

"FREEZE!" Ferrex did just that, halfway out of the cell's open door when the line of five guards appeared at the end of the hall, blocking the only exit to the floor. "Drop your weapons! NOW!" The masked soldiers trained their weapons at the guards, ready to open fire.

"No," The former prisoner growled stepping to the front of his rescuers. "WE will not lower our weapons." The guards leader, a broad shouldered squat man, adjusted his aim for the man's head.

"This ain't up for debate, Now get back in yer cell ya one eyed Freak!" If the insult inured him, the man didn't show it, and he continued to stare at the guard with one blind scarred eye, the other such a deep amber it seemed red.

"If you truly want me back in that cell," He smirked knowingly, "You must first terminate me! KILL THEM!" The mechanoid at his shoulder whirred a hoarse roar, leaping from its perch to its master hand, body shifting in mid air to become a pistol. His shot started the fire fight, catching the lead guard in his neck and sending blood spraying across the hall. Blinded by the gore, the two guards on his left fell quickly, one shot through the head, the other's chest perforated until it resembled a wheel of swiss cheese.

The two remaining guards returned fire, forcing Ferrex and his soldiers to take cover within the rusted door frame, while the cells former occupant dropped to one knee beside another soldier where he had fallen from a shot to the leg. He took aim, blowing the right most guard's head open with two quick shots, while the other fell back from a second wave of gun fire.

"Too easy," Ferrex smirked, walking out of cover and taking on of the fallen guards weapons as his own. The ex-prisoner felt his own weapon shift as the mechanoid resumed its mobile form, skittering back up to his shoulder as its owner moved to help the wounded solider up. "Better hurry," Ferrex said checking the hall the guards had come from. "We've got a plane to catch."

* * *

**Authors closing notes: Yes I made Dragstrip a femme. I liked Animated that much. Sue me. Her robot mode is based on Cyberton Override. I knew early on I wanted the Stunticons to be less soldier and more hit men. Sort of a transformers rendition of the less savory characters from Fast and Furious films if you will. They are sick, twisted and just down right not nice. **

**Any guesses or theories as to who the mysterious prisoner and his rescuers are? **


	14. Chapter 13: Bridges Old and New

"Are you sure Sir?"

"I am," He said swiftly, shifting to a more comfortable position on the surgical chair, more than a little impatient.

"Just checking," the surgeon said putting his gloved hands up in surrender, making his thin sickly frame look even slimmer. "I thought you might want to consider waiting for your health to recover before such an, "invasive" procedure."

"I did not ask for excuses Tar," He snapped. "You will perform the surgery or I will get someone who will." But the Doctor just smiled in a wide toothy grin that seemed to stretch muscles that couldn't exist.

"Oh I never said I wouldn't do it," he remarked with a casual shrug, then clapped his hands in excitement before reaching for the loaded syringe. "Now, are we all set?"

"Proceed Doctor," He said firmly closing his good eye, the other held open by its scars. "And be quick about it. I have an appearance to make." Tar injected his patient with the anesthetic, then strapped him down while he waited for the drug to take effect. Tar was glad the procedure his patient had asked for wasn't the cosmetic kind, he'd become far too familiar with those. No this addition had a more reasonable purpose behind it. The ranks of their organization did not tolerate weakness, be it in mind or body, most certainly not among its leaders. When it came to appearances, the more intimidating the better. Though his reputation alone should more than take care of that.

Tar smiled when he saw the man slip into unconsciousness, and reached for the scalpel over the soon to be active skull and facial implants.

* * *

"Can't believe Fowler's sending them all the way to Cybertron."

"I know right?" Miko said leaning back against the control platform railing, sitting roughly even with Bulkhead's helm. The Wrecker had come too not long after most everyone else had left except for Ratchet and Masterson, the former helping the latter with his latest orders.

"Gotta admit," Bulkhead laughed slightly glancing at his former charge, "It'll be interesting to see how Jack handles his first time in charge." He scratched his chest plates and fidgeted, not at all happy that Ratchet had confined him to the med-berth to let his systems repair the smaller damage still doting his chassis. He told the medic a few dents and cracks weren't anything to worry about, but then the old crankshaft had pulled out that pit-spawned wrench.

"He'll be fine," Miko said dejectedly, making Bulkhead's spark ache. The Wrecker-cadet had been through a lot in barely any time, but he wasn't sure how to comfort her. Loosing a loved one to natural causes was different from one on the battlefield. At least then you could blame it on someone.

"...How are you holding up?" He asked tentatively, testing the waters. The japanese half breed sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know Bulk," She said tiredly. "Everything's happening so fast its like I don't even know which way is up anymore. First my Mom dies from a cancer she never told me about, then I find out my Dad's a transformer, that I'm a half transformer, now this thing with Skylynx, uuuuuugghhh," She groaned as she slumped forward over her bunched knees. "It feels like my life's falling apart around me and I can't do anything to stop it." Bulkhead couldn't bear seeing her like this.

"You've still got your Dad right?," He asked, fully intent on avoiding the whole ex-con tidbit. "And your Grandmother in japan." But the WrecKer's words did nothing to life Miko's spirits.

"Yeah," She responded, still a million miles away, and Bulkhead could see she was dodging now.

"You don't want to go home do you?" It wasn't a question. Miko paused, her eyes wandering, searching for an answer as if it would be in front of her, but its was in vain.

"I'm not sure what I want anymore Bulkhead," She admitted, but her tone belied another trouble, something more specific. Something besides her impending return to Japan had been bothering her, and Bulkhead had a hunch he knew what it was.

"Miko," He started in with a tone not unlike the one he'd used after discovering she'd stowed away through the ground-bridge. "Is this about that thing with Skylynx?" Miko stiffened at the words, and shrunk down into herself a little. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But," He added, "You might want to talk it over with scales across the runway."

"...You think so?" She asked turning to her old guardian, and her eyes told him just how unnerved whatever had taken place made her.

"Think of it this way," He said hoping some Wrecker style advice would help the cadet. "If it scared you that much, what do you think it was like for him?" Miko turned her head back to the platform's floor in front of her feet. "Skylynx might look big and scary, but if you want it in cybertronian terms he's still a sparkling." Truth be told Skylynx had always been a bit of an odd man out, even among the Predacons. And after hearing about what he'd found in the lab from Wheeljack, Bulkhead was hoping the two could find some common ground in their grief and just maybe help each other through the confusion of moving on.

Suddenly, Miko stood up, dusted herself of a little, and turned to lean on the railing facing Bulkhead's berth. He smiled, lifting up a servo to her level for the closest thing they had ever worked out to an actual embrace. Miko hugged his hand, smiling a little.

"Thanks Bulk."

"Anytime," He smiled back, just as Miko broke the embrace and started down the ramp and out the hangar door, watching her the whole way. Two minutes after she left Bulkhead realized he already missed her, but reminded himself Miko wasn't the little girl he'd driven around Jasper anymore. But despite these self assuring, he began missing her even more as Masteron and Ratchet began arguing in every color of their respective species swear word rainbow.

Miko walked across the runway, tarmac still radiating heat up from the earlier sun and distorting the front of Skylynx's hangar. The main doors were closed, but the smaller pilot's entrance was unlocked. She cautiously stepped inside the dark unlit space, expecting to walk into an oven of a room but instead, felt her skin goosebump and chill.

"Brrrrrrrr," She shivered as the ice cold air enveloped her like a withered hand. Her feet made tiny crunching noises from the thin layer of frost covering the floor and her breath came in white puffs in front of her face.

"Skylynx?" she called out hesitantly, just now giving some thought to the idea of waking a sleeping dragon from its power nap. That and the fact she might not be on the best terms with him after the whole shooting him in the aft thing.

"Sky?" She called again, but the silence was overwhelming. Suddenly Miko realized the crunching under her feet had stopped, just before a wave of hot dry air rolled over her back. She turned around, and found two barely open yellow optics looking at her down a long blue and grey snout.

"_Oh, you again,_" Skylynx groaned tiredly and to himself. "_Primes be merciful_, _What does this insect want now?_"

"Uh Hello?!" Miko shot back, hands on her hips, "I'm right here Lizard Lips!" Skylynx's head bolted up, fanged maw glowing red in sudden rage.

"_Call me that again fleshling and I will personally!...wait a minute..." _The fire in his throat died and his mood flipped from enraged to shocked curiosity. "_You can understand me in this form?" _

"Well duh," Miko said matter of factly, "We're talking talking aren't we?" The predacons confusion only intensified her own.

"_Then when did you learn to speak our language?" _He asked. "_Only other predacons can speak to each other in beast mode._" It took Miko a short moment to realize Skylnx's mandibles weren't forming the words she was hearing, or of any language she had ever heard but one she understood as if it was plain japanese.

"I don't know," She said, beginning to panic slightly, "maybe it has something to do with that vision thing from the cave!"

"_So she did see it," _Skylynx said thoughtfully.

"I can hear you remember!," Miko shouted to get the white and blue predacon's attention.

"_Well I'm sorry if I'm not used to sharing my thoughts with insects!" _He growled as his chest and throat began to glow again. "_Now why are you here?" _

"I just want to talk," She said trying not to antagonize Skylynx further. "About what happened back at the lab." The glow beneath his plating vanished as Skylynx's form visible shifted. He looked away from Miko, laying his head and neck on his folded fore legs. But Miko wasn't about to be ignored.

"Look I'm just as confused by this as you are," She said walking around to look Skylynx in the optics again. "But wouldn't we have a better chance figuring it out together?"

"_It does not concern you. Besides," _He snarled as he turned away again, "_You wouldn't understand." _But Miko moved with him.

"Are you kidding?" She asked rhetorically. "This coming from the metal alien dragon talking to a half human half cybertronian japanese punk rocker wrecking cadet." She took a seat near his helm crossing her legs and folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "So go ahead, surprise me." Skylynx raised an optic ridge at the young hybrid, before exhaling a long, heated breath.

"_Very well. What is it you saw?" _The surrender caught her off guard, and Miko realized she hadn't actually thought of how to describe what she had seen.

"...I saw ... hurt. And I was hurting, like it was me but at the same time I knew it wasn't. Almost like I was.."

"_Like you were watching through someone else's eyes,_" Skylynx provided in a worryingly knowing tone.

"Yeah," She agreed. "But it was like I was looking at it through a dirty window. The picture wasn't clear it was more ... broken up. I remember a man and a woman next to me, then I was floating in some kind of, goo I guess. It hurt so much its all a blurr really."

"_Was there a dragon?_" Skylynx asked anxiously. "_A dragon made of fire?_"

"...Yeah," she answered, slowly putting together the strange pieces. "Why?" the dragon looked away from the question, optics dimming as his wings shifted to better cover his body. Through his fearsome appearance of horns teeth, claws and wings Miko saw two very human emotions; fear and sadness. Thats when it clicked.

"This isn't the first time its happened is it?" Skylynx's optics darted to her in surprise, darting away just as quickly, but they told enough. He had indeed experienced these dream-visions before.

"_...Yes_," he quietly confirmed, booming proud voice now a bare whisper.

"How often do they, you know?" The Predacon sighed, and Miko felt the temperature around her begin to rise ever so slightly with the breath.

_"Sometimes I will see things, mostly when I am asleep."_ He cast a sideways glance at Miko. "_But this was the first time they came while I was awake." _

"Are they all the same?" She asked tentatively, ashamed of her curiosity but testing the ice nonetheless. "In the lab I mean."

"_No," _he said shaking his helm tiredly. "_Most of the time the images are not as clear. Like I'm looking at them through shattered glass. Sometimes its like I'm watching a recording, but others times its as if ..." _Miko didn't push. She let Skylynx decide whether or not he wanted to tell her what was on his mind. When he finally did, his expression was more scared than anything.

"_As if ... they are not dreams at all. They almost feel like memories, but not mine." _

"And the fire dragon?" Her question made the predacon tense, and his optics flash from pale yellow to bright orange.

_"**He** is always there." _Skylynx snarled as his claws clenched. "_Running away and laughing at me, speaking in nothing but riddles." _

"He didn't do much speaking today," Miko commented if only to calm him down. "But I'll take bark over bite any time." A snorting laugh burst from Skylynx's muzzle.

"_True," _he chuckled in a way that sent Miko's heart into a downward spiral. Skylynx looked back when she fell silent, and found it was her now looking away from him, hands folded in her lap with a pained look on her face. "_Miko?_" He called, causing her to jump slightly when she heard her name.

"Sorry," She apologized quickly, "Its just for a second there you sounded a lot like my Dad."

_"Is this a bad thing?" _

"No, no its not like that just," She took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Thats how Dad laughed when Mom told a joke he liked."

"_Ah," _Skylynx nodded, still casting tiny glances toward the female hybrid. "_I assume you'll be leaving tomorrow. For the, um..." _

"Yeah," She sighed. "Dad said we have to help Gran-gran get everything ready."

"_Of course." _He remembered well the ceremony Bumblebee and Smokescreen had arranged for the one called Optimus, and though Skylynx had never met the Autobot leader faceplate to faceplate the Primes legend loomed large in the troop's reverence, both his own and his enemies. Even Predaking had paid his respects, in his own way.

"Miiiiiiiiikkkooooooo!" The japanese half breed perked up at the sound of her name, and recognized the voice as Raf's.

"_Its appears you are needed else where_," Skylynx said with a twinge of sadness as she got to her feet.

"Yeah," She said in a similar tone and turned to the predacon. "Well, good bye I guess." She turned to leave the way she came, but just as she reached the door. "Oh, and uh, listen," She said turning back to face Skylynx, "If you ever, you know want to talk about your ... you know." Even with a reptillian muzzle and maw, the Predacons smile seemed to radiate warmth.

"_I will," _He said just as warmly. "_And thank you for listening." _

"Anytime," She smiled back, then slipped out the door back into the scorching heat.

* * *

Elsewhere the Silence was killing Jack. It was all he could do to keep himself focused enough to drive back to his on-base housing with his two new teammates, neither of which he was on speaking terms with at the moment. The silence endured through their arrival at the single story ranch style house, their temporary home until Fowler finalized his plans with Ultra Magnus. Jack reached for the keys kept in his pants pocket, but failed to hide the winch of pain when the metal tip found his bandaged palm. And Vince noticed.

"Something wrong Darby?" He asked as he hefted his army duffel bag into his back.

"Just a little scratch," he lied quickly, setting the key into the dead bolt lock and turning. "Well," he said opening the door and stepping inside, "Make yourselves at home." The house was small, but surprisingly clean for what it was. There were no obvious piles of garbage like in Masterson's home, only the occasional stray paper or empty glass on a dresser. Sierra though, was unimpressed.

"Cozy," She deadpanned glancing around the sparsely furnished living room, marked by only a couch facing a small TV and a receiver box. "Where are we sleeping?"

"Guest room's down the hall and to the left," Jack said pointing down the short hallway to their left. "Vince you can take my ro."

"No thanks," The buff red-head said dismissively as he unbuttoned and peeled off his uniform jacket revealing a light grey plain T-shirt underneath, hanging it on a hook from his bag before he walked over to the couch and dropped his bag nearby. "This thing fold out?" Jack could only shrug.

"Never tried." Vince pulled up a few cushions only to find it didn't, and settled for lying down flat on the couch.

"Yeah that'll work," He said positioning himself just so. "Course its not like we're gonna be here very long. We'll be shipping out soon." Sierra scoffed as she walked toward the hall.

"Not soon enough," She muttered under her breath, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her into her new room. Jack groaned and ran his good hand over his face and leaning back against the light tan walls. He finally looked up and saw the time; nearly six o'clock.

"Great," he grumbled, before raising his voice. "Hey! Either of you want something to eat?"

"Sure," Vince said, still lounging on the couch.

"Whatever," Sierra replied through a closed door. Jack hung his head and sighed, then walked to the kitchen, the cooking area separated from the living room by only a chest high wall. He decided on fixing a simple pasta and canned tomato sauce just as Vince found the tv remote and clicked it onto the news.

"And in recent events," the news anchor said with a gleaming forced smile on his face, "a cruise ship may have been saved by a freak storm. The Rapa Nui Queen was scheduled to arrive in Singapore today, but was held in port in the Philippines by a sudden typhoon that seemed to spring up out of nowhere. Had it been on schedule, the ship would have docked minutes before a fire broke out and engulfed a nearby oil tanker. Thankfully no one was seriously injured, and the fire is under control.

A California professor is being honored today. Cliffside Museum Director Eric Tulnson returned earlier this week from a two month expedition in the Amazon, escorting back what some described as "a treasure trove" of Inca artifacts. The brazilian and Peruvian governments have both issued statements threatening legal action if the artifacts are not returned to South America within the year, though Dr. Tulson stands by his decision, citing recent outbreaks of violence in the region and destruction by the drug cartels. Now here's Reese Leblanc with your six O-clock weathe." Vince muted the TV, not because he disapproved of the program, but to make sure his senses weren't confused.

"Darby?" He called back, smelling the air.

"Yeah?" The Agent shouted, head halfway in the fridge.

"What are you cooking over there?"

"Pasta," Jack answered, confused even as an orange yellow light appeared behind him. "Why?"

"Its on fire."

"Scrap!" Jack dove for the fire extinguisher hanging beside the fridge and quickly doused the burning pot, along with most of the stove top. "Aw man," He groaned fanning away the remaining smoke, "not again."

"You don't cook much do you?" Vince asked, though not in a very question like tone.

"I cook," Jack shot back feebly. "I'm just ... not very good at it."

"Obviously," Vince laughed getting to his feet and walking into the kitchen. "Okay, one side shorty. I'd like to eat some time tonight." Jack gave the one time bully a confused look as he started digging through the fridge and freezer, pulling out the odd bag of vegetables and frozen steak and gravy meal.

"You cook?" Jack asked surprised as Vince reached for a knife and cutting board.

"Yeah, so?"

"Sorry," He apologized, "Just never thought of you doing any thing other than..." he stopped before he said anything that would turn the conversation awkward, but Vince surprised him again.

"Beating the snot out of punks smaller than me?" Jack nodded hesitantly, but Vince brushed it off, focusing instead on chopping the bell pepper and tomatoes in front of him. "Look I'm not gonna pretend I wasn't a jerk to you back then. I was. And you have every right to hold that against me. I know I would." He paused a moment, reaching over to read the microwave steak instructions. "But seeing as the Director's stuck us with each other, I'd rather put the past behind me than waste time on that."

"Deal," Jack said, before changing the subject as Vince continued to move about the kitchen as he threw together whatever was on hand. "Where exactly did you learn to cook anyway?"

"I didn't," he admitted, dumping the chopped vegetables into the open freezer meal, then both sliding the tray into the hot oven. "My folks worked nine to seven most days of the week and left me in charge of dinner." Jack's expression changed slightly as he began to see the former jock in a new light. "I remember this one time," He said already laughing at the memory, "I tried to surprise them with some of those instant cookies, you know the kind you buy as raw dough rolls from the store? Well I wanted them to be ready right when they got home, so instead of waiting on the oven I decided to do them in the microwave. But instead of cooking, all they end up doing is smoking like an overheated car. Long story short, desert is a bust and the whole kitchen nearly burned down." Jack laughed in spite of himself as he imagined Vince scrambling to fight the clouds of smoke streaming from the microwave.

"I bet that smelled nice," he laughed thinking of the scent of burnt chocolate. Vince, in a drastic departure from jack's memories of him, laughed as well.

"The whole room stank like burnt dough for years until we finally fumigated the place."

"What did you parents do?"

"Construction mostly. Dad's crew built most of the houses on the north side of town. Mom managed the financing."

"I bet they were really proud when you joined the army huh?" Vince trailed of at Jack's question as the smile ran away from his face. His mouth closed and he swallowed hard, trying to keep a straight face as he spoke.

"I wouldn't know. They uh, never made it out of Jasper. Not before the..."Jack felt his own voice catch as his mind shifted from happy images to ruined streets and burning buildings being leveled by vehicon blasters.

"I'm so sorry Vince," he said quietly, but the army recruit was quick to change the subject.

"So ... You and Sierra huh?" He asked glancing back at the technically senior agent. "How'd that happen anyway? And more to the point, how do you not recognize someone like that?"

"Its...complicated," Jack sighed, though honestly he didn't know how. After Arcee went back to Cybertron with the other bots he hadn't been in the best mood. He hadn't expected his partners leaving to hit him so hard. Miko had described is a train wreck in slow motion. "We ... met at a restaurant in Salt Lake City, got to talking and just kinda ... clicked you know." Clicked in that they were both depressed lonely messes looking for a shoulder to cry on.

"And for the record," Jack said defensively, "She never uses her full name and when we were together she was still dying her hair dark red." The words brought memories back to his mind, but the moment Jack allowed his mind to wander the young woman in question walked in from the hall.

"Whats for dinner Vince?" She asked, having traded her crisp blue uniform for a faded yellow short sleeve shirt and light blue sweat pants. Fortunately it was a sight Jack was familiar with.

"How do you know I didn't make it?" Jack asked, looking insulted, but Sierra only smirked.

"Well seeing as the smoke alarm hasn't gone off." Jack looked away as his face turned beet red and Sierra's smirk became triumphant. Vince's laughter didn't help Jacks confidence much either, though it did go a long way toward lightening the mood.

"Here we go," Vince said taking the tray out of the oven as Jack grabbed some plates. Dinner wasn't as awkward as it might have been. Vince did most of the talking, but the tension between Jack and Sierra remained no matter how much Vince tried to break it, until finally Sierra broke the ice.

"So Jack," She started in a tone that was just as accusing as it was polite. "How long have you been an Agent?" Jack's eyes darted around for a second, not because he'd forgotten the answer but because he knew good and well where this was going.

"Uhh, about a year, year and half," he said tentatively. "I used to be a consultant but Fowler said I needed to step up." The pale blonde nodded as her voice became rich with sarcasm.

"He wasn't wrong there." Awkward silence followed the remark, but only for a moment before Jack started in on a new subject.

"Fowler said you're a pilot. But last time I checked," He said raising an eyebrow as Sierra sunk back just a little. "You were afraid of heights."

"I got over it," She answered quickly, taking a bite from her plate and chewing for longer than she needed to. "How long have you been working with the Autobots?"

And there it was. The question Jack had been dreading. But before he could think of an answer that wouldn't earn him both red-head's hatred he was reminded of his injuries when his fidgeting in place found his bandaged hand wandering onto the business end of his fork. He hissed when the metal tips dug into the tender flesh and quickly drew back his hand, much to the others confusion.

"Everything okay?" Vince asked.

"Yeah, sure," Jack said quickly, standing up. "I'm just gonna, be right back." He left without another word, leaving his new teammates to share bewildered glances as their appointed CO B-lined for the bathroom.

Jack shut and locked the door behind him, then finally allowed his face to show the excruciating pain. He leaned on the sink with his good hand, biting his tongue and shutting his eyes as the aching burn from his palm intensified until it was pulsing up his arm like a cramp. Steadying himself he managed to open and reach into the medicine cabinet, but fell short of grasping the bandages he needed. Instead he collapsed onto the tiled floor, holding his hand as the pain became pins and needles, but not great enough that he couldn't see his hand.

Though he wished he couldn't.

Bleeding through the layers of wrapping was a dark green stain the size of his thumb. Jack unwrapped the gauze in a panic, only to find the bandage itself was soaked through with a grotesque mix of blood and dark green fluid. But it was the spiders web of similarly colored lines that spread out from the cut that made him pale. His palm was crisscrossed with the color, lines he recognized as blood vessels running through with the same substance. He rolled up his jacket sleeve, only to find the color spreading up his arm, fading just below his elbow.

He hesitantly opened and closed his hand, wincing at first as it caused a fresh bolt of pain, but soon the sensation dissipated enough that he decided he could hide it.

"I'm fine," he growled through clenched teeth. "I'm fine." He kept repeating the words to himself, hoping they would become true eventually even as he thought of ways to hide his injury from Fowler, Ratchet and the others. The director had just trusted him with leading his own team. The last thing he needed to do was get himself confined to one of Ratchets med berths.

Right now what they needed him to be was a leader, not a sick kid. He was fine, and that was all they needed to know.

* * *

Director Fowler stared down the man standing across from him, but trying to match Dynomo Nakadai's glare with his own was futile.

"No," The dark skinned swordsman repeated, tone and expression both deadly serious and unmoving.

"It'll make things a whole lot easier," Fowler insisted, still trying to change the cybertronians mind. "And we could really use your help against the Stunticons."

"You may reason however you wish Director," Dynomo returned flatly, "but my decision stands. I have dedicated my life to escaping the war that consumed my old one, I will not throw all of that away because you wish for an advantage over your own enemies."

"Do you really think you can hide from it forever?" Fowler's words held more venom than he had intended, but if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was someone who ran from a fight. Thankfully Rodney was there to offer a gentler touch.

"He ain't wrong Dyno," The smaller man said, "Only reason you an Miko stayed under de radar was cause de only cons knew you was ere were buried in a mountain." But like a cornered beast Dynomo turned on his friend in the blink of an eye.

"Do not speak of facts to me, _Rodent_," He snarled, "You have gone behind our backs all these years, spying on us for the likes of him and his ilk!" He jabbed a finger at Fowler, still standing and leaning over his desk.

"Yeah I went behind yer backs!," Rodney snapped back, jabbing his own finger into the much larger man's chest, "But only so you's and Streaks didn't wind up in some Area 51 dissection lab!" The retort left Dynomo momentarily speechless, and Fowler decided that was his chance to explain.

"I won't deny that my predecessor recruited Mr. McNeil as an agent to keep an eye on you and your family after he learned how close he was to you. But it was for your own good." Dynomo pinned Rodney to the wall with his laser like glare, but he just talked it off.

"Don't gimme dat look Chopperface. I was flat broke and dey were offering a steady paycheck and dual citizenship in Japan and de U S of A. Honestly, how could I say no?" Dynomo's glare remained.

"Like this," He deadpanned, then turned to Fowler. "No." He turned on his heel and walked toward the exit, only for Rodney to dart across his path.

"Ah come on Dyno! After all de slag we been through you know me better dan dat! I swear I never told dem anything you didn't want me toos!"

"He's telling the truth," Fowler said backing him up. "Rodney only ever gave us enough information to keep other agents away. We didn't even know Miko had inherited your Cybertronian abilities until now." Dynomo continued to glare at Rodney, now trying to discern any contradiction to the Directors words. But Fowler wasn't ready to let a potential ally slip away just yet.

"You might have washed your hands of Cybertron's war, but Earth isn't exactly the image of World peace either. We've got our own problems to deal with," he explained as his tone darkened. "And they don't care whether or not you want to fight." Dynomo's response was laced with his old purring cybertronian accent, but also a condescending curiosity Fowler was more familiar with coming Miko.

"And who, might I ask Director, are they?"

'Yep,' Fowler thought, holding his cards close until the last possible moment, 'She's his daughter.'

"They call themselves Mech," he finally said, stance deflating somewhat but not softening in the least. "They're an international terrorist organization operating from without and within military forces all over the world. Their MO is global revolution and world domination through superior technology. And lately that technology has mainly been cybertronian in origin."

"Hold up," Rodney interjected, "I thought we took care of dis mess years ago."

"Silas has been MIA for almost four years now its true," Fowler admitted, "and we haven't seen hide or back stabbing hair of Mech since. But I have reason to believe they might be planning something, and it won't be good." Dynomo took in the information with the same stoic mask he always adopted, but his friend was loosing patience.

"Ah fer all depart-mentalized sewer sludge, will you spit it out already!" Fowler sat down and swiftly produced a folder from within his desk, one he quickly slid across the desk to Dynomo and Rodney. The two men began flipping through the various pictures and documents as the Director summarized their contents.

"Arthur Corris, former Captain in the Royal Marines, British special forces. He's greedy and too the point. With a knife _and_ a gun."

"I heard bout dis guy," Rodney elaborated. "He got busted for raiding a mosque an try'n te sell de loot on de black market. Didn't he get locked in de slammer though?"

"Ten times and counting," Fowler sighed. "When he's not behind bars he hires himself out as a private contractor under the road name Ferrex, mostly by the kind of people that don't bother asking a lot of questions."

"Then He is a mercenary," Dynomo said looking at the Director, and Fowler could see the gears turning behind the elder Nakadai's green eyes. "How long has he been free?" Just like his daughter, Fowler realized, Dynomo didn't miss much.

"Almost a month," he said, leaning back slightly in his chair. "But here's the scary bit. We've been combing the globe for this guy non stop since he broke out, but there's nothing to suggest he's taken any new jobs."

"So?" Rodney asked. "Maybe he's just laying low? Wait till de heat dies down."

"Unlikely. This guy's got a serious money addiction. Kinda guy that thinks every dollar has his name on it. Last time we caught him it was at a penthouse he'd just bought in Monte Carlo. While taking a bath in a solid gold tub." Surprisingly, Dynomo laughed at the image, though it was more a scoff than anything. He glanced back at Rodney.

"It seems there _are_ those more addicted to wealth than you Vermin."

"Put a sock in it ya overgrown circuit board," The former thief shot back, before Fowler put the discussion back on track.

"That wasn't even the most interesting part of the arrest. This was." He reached up and pulled a full page sized picture from the bottom of the folder, then slid it in front of the two men and sat back to watch their reactions. "Those are his arms." Dynomo's indifferent mask remained, though obviously forced now. Rodeny had no such mask, and stared at the image in bare disbelief.

"What de heck is dat? Some kinda skin parasite?" he asked, leaning down for a better look at the picture. It was dominated by Ferrex's right and left fore arms, both almost completely covered in huge armor plate like scabs dominated by faded brown and rimmed with pale green.

"That," Fowler continued, "Is a biotech force enhancer. Whatever metal that guy touches, even if its just a passing bump, corrodes to dust in minutes." Dynomo instantly pulled his hand away from where it hovered just over the picture. "Most we can tell its the result of some type of nanomachine in his blood. This is high end, top of the line tech, and its got Mech written all over it." Dynomo didn't look away from the image, slightly touching the picture of the discolored mutated arms.

"You believe he is now their agent," he asked in a very unquestioning tone.

"They're the only ones that could have hooked him up with something this high tech. And given his military background there's a strong possibility this wasn't an on the spot decision either." He studied Dynomo's face, looking for any signs that the cybertronian exile was changing his earlier decision. "Mr. Nakadai, I have nothing but respect for you and your daughter. She's one of our best, and probably the toughest girl I've ever known. She took down three Cons with her bare hands, not to mention held her own against Soundwave and Starscream." Rodney smirked when he saw Dynomo's chest swell with pride, before Fowler played his trump card.

"But if Mech gets their greasy paws on her, it won't be long until they find out who and what she is." He sat a little straighter and folded his hand together atop his desk. "Five years ago Mech created an abomination. Ripped open three cybertronians before they were done. Bots or cons, didn't make one bit of difference to them. And you can be sure as there are 50 stars on the flag that they won't hesitate to do whatever they want to any cybertronian, or half cybertronian, they get their hands on."

Dynomo's silence endured, until he turned his eyes away from the picture before him and looked Fowler directly in the eyes.

"Very well," he sighed, stance unwavering. "But on one condition." Apparently Rodney had a good idea ow what his friend was about to say.

"Ah great, here it comes."

"I will help you fight this Mech, but Miko is still my daughter, and I am her Father. She is not to leave this base unless I or Roderick are with her." Rodney was ore than a little surprised by the detail of Dynomo's condition. Picking his kid up from the airport was one thing, but keeping her safe from giant alien robots was a whole other league of trust.

"Done," Fowler agreed, far too quickly for either of the friends liking's, but Dynomo wasn't about to count the gift horses teeth. "But I have to warn you, Miko's gotten pretty good at slipping off without anyone noticing until its too late."

"I do not intend to keep her from the battlefield, only to guard her against threats she is not ready for." The Director nodded, understanding a fathers wish to protect his children anyway he can.

"Fair enough. As far as paper work is concerned I'm listing you as a consultant to Miko and Agent McNeil."

"Consultant," Rodney scoffed as he rolled his eyes, "Riiiiiigghht."

"It'll keep the Regents off your back. Civilian operatives are the only thing they aren't allowed to mess with, and besides technically Rafael and Miko are consultants as well." Dynomo laughed slightly at the thought of his daughter consulting on anything without taking care of it herself. "But first," Fowler added looking at Dynomo. "I'm giving both you and your daughter a week's leave for..." He trailed off but the words had been enough for the elder Nakadai.

"Thank you," he smiled, then gave a quick bow before leaving the room, though his friend remained. Rodney followed after an only halfway serious salute, leaving The Director alone with his thoughts.

Having a veteran like Dynomo on their side would help, but it didn't change the fact that all his plans were dependent on Mech staying quiet until after the Decepticons were eliminated. And if Ferrex's going dark was any indication that would not be the case for much longer.

Fowler leaned back in his seat, tilting the chair with him as he wracked his brain and memory. Silas was the only one they'd ever been able to definitively link to Mech's operations, and they still had next to no intel of their command structure or hierarchy. If Mech was about to step up their operations again they would need someone to give those operations a direction. But who?

* * *

Anyone looking at the Blackrock industrial complex would have only seen what the locals had been seeing for years now. Miles and miles of abandoned factories lining the river bank as far as the eyes could see through the evening fog. Everyone assumed there had to be at least half a dozen or so homeless living in the rot at one point or another, it was a big place and the police couldn't patrol it all every night. Then again they also assumed their teenage relatives had eloped over state lines when they turned up missing, not realizing they would never be seen again.

Deep within the complex's central hub, nestled in the heart of a massive steel mill a hurricane of activity was growing with the sunset. Sparks flew from the foundries as the scrap metal hauled in during the night was melted down back into raw metal by the hellish colorless heat. The air was nothing more than a cacophony of banging metal on metal as masked workers heaved massive slabs of red hot metal across the open floor, herding them into rows and racks of other like shaped parts.

Above the Dantean inferno on walkways suspended from thick heavy chains patrolled armed guards, all fully armed and armored as if in defiance of the temperatures below. But elsewhere in the Roost, in the former loading bays for departing trains a hive of information had nested. Wires clung to the walls like vines, linking a vast forest of tree like computers, all navigated by a small army of masked men and women. They made constant adjustments and checked every detail of their systems security, knowing full well that the technician beside them could be hacking into any number of national servers at the same time.

These were the twin he viewed through changed eyes, a cold stern face barely masking the unyielding pride he felt at the sights all around him as he moved into the digital labyrinth with his new robotic partner on his shoulder, affectionately named Scalpel by the good Doctor. More than one of the technicians paused upon seeing him and Ferrex walk in, and a few stood at attention, but all shouted.

"Hey! Its him! He's back, He's really back!"

"Welcome home boss!"

"Hey hey Big Z is in the house!" He inclined his head to each greeting, allowing his chest to swell with their enthusiasm.

"Sir," One of the tech's said as she fell into step beside them, tablet held tight in hand. He nodded his head as the rightmost pane of his sight filled with information on the young woman, from age of 17 to her rank and her position as recently promoted head of their artificial intelligence project.

"Ms. Beller I presume," he said regarding the medium height blonde as Scalpel clicked his own greeting. "How goes the research?"

"On schedule," She said with a smile that was both awed and proud. Ferrex cracked his own smirk.

"No thanks to that bugger Powell," he laughed while Beller continued uninterrupted.

"We just finished simulations on the new A.I.'s. 79 to one kill ratio over the old constructs, and we're already making adjustments for the different field models."

"Excellent," he smiled slightly. "Keep up the good work Doctor, and keep me posted."

"Of course," She nodded eagerly, dropping out of step with the two, before calling after them. "And welcome back Sir!" He smiled and nodded to more technicians and soldiers, all repeating the same greeting in one form or another and it truly did feel good to be back in the saddle after his exile. Soon Ferrex was guiding him up a flight of metal stairs, the agents corrosive grip held in check by a pair of thick rubber arm length gloves.

"Sorry about the kids," He said in regards to the initial greeting. "Had to clean out the old rot Silas left behind when he went awol."

"Their age is not important. What is is how fast and how well they accomplish their tasks." He felt the temperature increase with the heat rising up from below, and his partner quickly ducked into his jacket's inside pocket as they left the stairs and entered the main manufacturing area.

"After all," He said walking up to a railing, hands clasped behind the back of his forest green leather knee length trench coat as his vision focused in and out on the soldiers above and the workers below. "What is the value of one cog compared to another in the great machine of order? Any number of combinations will succeed, so long as the care is taken to find them."

"Of course," Ferrex agreed taking a spot beside his friend on the railing, smiling broadly as he took in the sights and sounds all around them. "Look at it," he beamed like a proud brother. "Over a hundred thousand soldiers and personnel, from every navy, every army, every air force on earth. Technicians and engineers of every kind; mechanical, genetic, and of course, theoretic." He laughed in his throat. "Hard to believe that six years ago this was all just a tiny little back room conspiracy. Now we're a bona-fied army, ready to make the world our oyster. All we've been missing," he said looking at his friend, "is our General."

Now he allowed himself a full honest smile, white teeth flashing orange from the light below, the same light dancing across the metal plates now covering his face's scared right side. His head had been shaved clean for the procedure, allowing for a half skull cap that curved forward over his ear then arcing down to wrap part way round his chin leaving his mouth and nose untouched, while his eye was completely obscured behind an assembly of three rotating optical lenses mounted directly into the plate mounted to his head.

"You like?" Tar's voice sing-songed as he skipped up the stairs behind them and slipping onto the railing beside Ferrex. "I dusted all day just for your big arrival."

"Really," Ferrex said taking a gloved soot covered hand away from the railing, "How _thoughtful_ of you."

"Aww, whats the matter Rusty?" Tar mock pouted as Ferrex bristled. "Are you sad that you didn't get such a big welcome? I'm not."

"Call me Rusty one more time ya little psycho-freak!," Ferrex growled reaching for the hem of his glove. "And I'll turn that steel plate you got in your skull to dust before you can blink!" But if Tar was threatened there was every sign to the contrary.

"Whatever you say buddy," he sighed. "At least we're not gonna run out of craaaaazzy any time soon."

"Look who's talking Hannibal Lecte,"

"ENOUGH!" Both men cowered at the Generals bark, not wanting to become familiar with the bite that could follow. "Tar, how's our boy genius?"

"More useful every shock," He smiled sadistically. "We're already more than 50% complete on half of the suits. But," he hesitated, "There is the issue of bodies for them to drive." The general said nothing as the surgeon explained their problem. "As you know Sir, Silas was a liiiiittle paranoid about the data he and his team recovered, so there are considerable gaps in the specifications that we would need for an actual functioning body."

"So," Ferrex sighed, "We have the drivers, but no rides." But while his friend's mood was dejected, The General noticed the mischievous gleam in Tar's eyes. He didn't like guessing.

"What?" He snapped, but the surgeon didn't even flinch.

"Our boy has been busy," Tar grinned. "Not only is he delaying Unit:E's suits, he's also made contact with the Decepticons. "Secretly" of course."

"What a moron," Ferrex laughed, "Does he really think he can just slip something like that by us?"

"It appears he's struck a deal with them for a little firepower, perhaps enough to win back his freedom."

"Whats the status of the Decepticons?" The General suddenly asked, confusing both his lieutenants.

"Uhh, hiding Sir," Ferrex said slowly. "From the looks of things they just recently came back from a big loss." For once Tar nodded in agreement.

"They're not exactly in a position to keep the Autobots occupied if you ask me. Could make it harder for us." But the General remained silent, brooding over some idea unknown to the others until finally.

"Stretched thin are they? It would be a shame if such scant resources were wasted on an insect such as Masterson. Tar," he barked suddenly, "I want you to establish a communication line with the Decepticon commander." Tar's look was one of utter astonishment, opening and closing his mouth a few times before looking The General dead in the optic.

"Come again?"

"You heard me," He said calmly, leaning forward onto the railing. "Silas was far too close minded when it came to dealing with his problems, focusing on his experiments and nothing else. Especially the consequences of his actions. His blind ambition made enemies for us out of both factions. I on the other hand will not waste the chance for such a valuable ally." He right himself again, then walked away down the walkway.

"Would you rather peer at the top of Olympus through the clouds? Or look down on earth from the side of Zeus?" He asked without looking back at them, knowing the words would fester in their minds just as his message had done with the thousands that now toiled at his feet. They would latch onto the implications of his message and in turn ignite the fires of ambition within, ambition that would drive them into a new world. A world unrestricted by the moral dogmas and stifling regulations. A world free to progress and grow in every direction until Humanity had ascended from apes crawling out of the muck to a Godhood of technology supreme.

This was his eternal goal. This was the new world order he envisioned. This was the vision at the core of M.E.C.H..


	15. Ch 14: Devious Developments

"LOUSY FRAGGER!" Henry yelled at the top of his lungs as he slammed the door behind himself. "Who does that overgrown crankshaft think he is?! Saying I can't understand cyber-whatsian technology! What am I, some MIT Noob?!" He stormed through the empty house, furious at the autobot medic that had insulted his skills, just because he wasn't cybertronian.

"Nooooo," He continued to fume as he mocked Ratchet's voice, rather poorly actually. "You're just a human. Your species needs time to evolve more. You're not ready for our technology. CH-YEAH! Say's the guy who's race destroyed their own planet!" Henry stole a look at the digital clock hanging nearby and growled in his throat. It was late, and while He knew for a fact his temper would dissipate after a good nights sleep, he was way too worked up to rest. The better half of his mind was still in his lab, going over the suit diagrams and figuring out the individual adjustments each suit would require even as the worse half came up with new problems to solve.

That is until both latched onto one specific, daunting, and potentially migraine inducing idea to challenge him with. But more than challenge himself, this could be the key to making Ratchet finally respect his skills. He ran to his room and turned on the computer, mind already racing with theories as he pulled up the hacked security feed from the hangar and pushed his head set on. He panned the camera around a little, just enough to make sure Bulkhead was asleep in the medical berth and that the doctor was out.

Minimizing the video, he started digging through his computers files until he found what he was looking for: an old PC first person video game he'd modified to fit his needs a long time ago. While the program booted up he grabbed a game controller and hooked it into the computer.

"Come on, come on," he mumbled anxiously as the program slowly loaded, until the progress bar gave way to a new video feed, albeit one completely black and featureless. A button click changed that, turning on a pair of head lights at the end of a long purple hood, and illuminating the metal doors directly in front, and more importantly, doors that were unlocked. He gently pressed down on the right trigger button, and the car slowly eased forward. He didn't know Ratchet had put Bulkhead in an induced stasis nap to keep him from taking off after the Nakadais, son Henry was trying to be as quiet as possible. But just as the car's hood reached the doors, his finger twitched.

The two guards outside the hangar were barely awake, each having drawn the short straws after an already long day. But both men nearly jumped out of their uniforms when two metallic, and more to the point loud, bangs clanged out from the hangar like gun shots.

"HOLY!"

"What the hell?!" Both men looked at each other, clutching their rifles anxiously before their training kicked back in, though the still glanced nervously at the hangar door.

"Well don't just stand there!" the taller and thinner of the two said with more confidence than he felt. "Come on, better check it out." His squatter companion was even less sure.

"I don't know man," he said loosely holding his rifle, "maybe we should just ignore it. Probably nothing you know?"

"Shut up and help me get this door open," His partner grunted, trying to pull open the pilot door while his companion just watched.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Ratchet welded that shut a while ago."

"What?! Why would he do that?" For a moment the only response he got was a pair of crossed arms and his partner glaring up at him.

"Dude," he deadpanned in an obvious tone. "Have you even met the guy?"

"...Right."

"And like I said," The smaller, lazier of the pair shrugged, "Its probably nothing."

CRASH! Both men jumped again when the silence was replaced with ringing metal and breaking glass, and now it was the tall man glaring at his partner.

"You call THAT nothing?!" he yelled running to the main hangar door controls. His partner backed up and aimed his rifle at the doors as the tall one keyed the access code.

"I swear Simmons," he warned as the doors started to open, "If we die because of this I'm gonna kill you."

"Just watch my six!" Simmons barked back as the massive doors slide away from each other. Both men clicked off their safeties and shifted their stances, only for twin white headlights to blind them, causing their hands to shoot up to shield their eyes.

"AHH Sonuva!" But before Simmons could finish the swear his voice was lost in the roar of a car engine as a black and purple Cadillac tore out of the hangar doors making the guards dive in opposite directions to avoid getting run down. And both were left gaping as the car sped down the runway and out of sight.

"Uuhh Simmons, did you just see a?"

"Yep."

"That tried to run us."

"Yep."

"And that just drove off down the."

"Pretty much," he supplied before finally looking at his partner. "Think we should call it in?"

"Are you nuts?!" His terrified but lazy friend laughed. "After the day we've had the last thing we need is to be up till dawn filling out paperwork on something like this."

"You got a point there Griff," Simmons admitted. "It'll probably run into one of the Autobots sooner or later." His friend nodded triumphantly, and a few moments of silence passed between them, before Griff realized he was too awake to keep quiet now.

"Hey Simmons," he started casually. "You ever wonder why we're here."

"Oh dear god," He groaned, "Not this crap again."

Elsewhere Henry Masterson was working the vehicon's remote controls with all the skill you could expect from a video game addict, which would surprise most people in its quality. He turned the drone around corners and up roads until he was in the more residential part of the base where servicemen's families lived. Not any relatives of agents though, hostage situation potential and whatnot. Henry made sure to mind the stop signs if only to avoid suspicion until he finally turned into his own driveway and pulled into the open garage.

"YES!" He yelled, throwing his arms up in triumph, "Ownage! TOTAL OWNAGE!" He yanked off his headset, turned off the computer and ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the garage. He threw open the door, devious smirk already cutting his face in half as he opened the driver side door and pulled out the equipment he'd picked up from his main lab, including a wireless pc adapter and the prototype control gauntlet. After 15 minutes of fussing and moving some equipment from his room to the garage he slipped the gauntlet on, and crossed his arms.

"All righty Stevey," he smiled watching the Vehicon transform then shift to lay flat on its back on the floor. "Lets see if we can't get that genie outta the bottle." He knew he was in for a long night, but the chance of wiping that condescending glare off Ratchets mug was far too tempting.

* * *

If Soundwave thought he was keeping his little pet a secret, then he really needed to clean that mask of his. If there was one thing Motormaster had learned scrounging his way in the mines and work camps of the hard labor caste it was the potential importance of every little detail. Like a few too many credits payed to a certain bot, or a discolored patch on an armor plate. Even a nanoseconds waver of the ground-bridge didn't escape his notice, though he had decided to let Soundwave believe it had.

It wasn't that Motormaster didn't trust Soundwave, but with their leader in self imposed exiled the Comm officer was only loyal to the Decepticon cause. And he would see it through regardless of the consequences or collateral damage. That was why when Soundwave stalked off to one of Alpha Tarn's more unstable area's he sent Deadend to follow him.

The recently revived and reformatted Stunticon tracker was one of the few mechs that could go unnoticed by Soundwave, but even his abilities had limits. He had to take greater and greater care the farther Soundwave traveled from the heart of the base, the changing floor beneath his pedes making silence difficult but not impossible.

The open hallways branching out from of the command center quickly gave way to narrow cluttered run down corridors, slipping his dark burgundy frame through the tangle of collapsed hull supports, broken energon lines and crumbling wires. But his scout frame was smaller than most decepticon mechs, so it wasn't that terribly difficult. The game changed however when the metal walls and floor ended, switched with loose powdery rock. At least it was at first, but Soundwave's trail quickly took Deadend down into the ground, where the rock was harder but still loose and one wrong move would give him away. He kept going through, following the silent comm officer through the cavern and as they went deeper the floor and walls changed yet again, but it was a change Deadend did not like recognizing.

His movements became even slower to avoid squelching down into the muck and he had to disable the sensory nodes lining the horns of his helm to keep his energon down. He didn't care if that meant taking the chance of a swarmer sneaking up on him, this was disgusting. He made sure to keep himself focused and avoid looking at the hive structure around him as much as possible, but the stench of secretions and hatched pods was everywhere. Little did Deadend know having an Insecticon hive in the basement would soon be the least of his bosses concerns.

Realizing he had lost sight of Soundwave in the stinking tunnels, Deadend kept his optics on the trail left in his wake, trying his best to both ignore and keep mindful of the chattering all around him. Then it occurred to him that it hadn't been this loud when he entered the hive just moments before, and the noise was only growing. Clicks became trills then rebounded into echoes that crashed together in the narrow tunnels.

One of these echoes sources was on the move and Deadend wasted no time in hiding his frame behind a pile of broken egg pod shards as a group of Insecticons, easily fifty strong, surged out of some unseen portal and across his path. But instead of turning and going down the tunnel they kept straight, appearing out one wall and vanishing into the other as quickly as they could scrambling over one another. So when the last swarmer had followed its brothers, Deadend slunk out of his hiding place and followed their trail. Not even a millicycle later the short side tunnel simply ended and Deadend again checked himself in the shadows.

The end of the tunnel had become a window, one looking out over a massive domed cave dominated by the single colossal gestation pod standing at its center, one easily large enough to hold five adult cybertronians inside. Smaller maturing pods lined the walls while the roof above was honeycombed in hard dark green and purple secretions that did nothing to break up the thousand echoes bellowing up from below.

The floor and indeed much of the walls were covered in Insecticons, of all colors, kinds and sizes. Chattering Swarmers reared up on their six legs as they attempted to roar louder than their brothers, while over head Spittors droned and hovered ignorant of the acidic slime dripping from their mandibles as they eyed their fellows like they were energon goodies. But both breeds scattered when two massive Bruisers shrieked loud enough to deafen those too close who were swiftly crushed under pede when the two crashed into each other, their hivemates cheering and clamoring in their own language as the two struggled like bulls through locked mandibles.

Then without warning the hives noise ceased when a new, terrifying roar rumbled up over the others like thunder. The enormous pod in the middle of the cave glowed blood red through its shell, illuminating the curled form within and scattering the formerly fierce horde like the insects they resembled. With his path now open, Soundwave approached from some unseen portal with what ever Insecticon still blocking his path slinking back into the mass. The faceless Con stood before the massive pod, hunched over and looming like the rumors told of him by both sides. Yet his body language was gentle as he reached up and placed a single servo on the Pod's exterior. Deadend watched Soundwave slowly circle the gigantic pod, the burning red glow from within following his touch.

Deadend noticed that as Soundwave seemed to focus on the pod ,the insecticons were terrified of it. Not a single one dared approach it now, as if they would be incinerated it they did. Deadend zoomed his optics on the pod, trying to get a better idea of what was inside, but the glow was too dim and too small to reveal true details. Then he noticed the insecticons were beginning to leave the room and undoubtedly filter back into the tunnels they had come from. Deadend wasted no time in retracing his steps out of thew hive, though he should have stayed.

Then he would have seen the glyph like symbol that had grown out of the pods shell, one that resembled the head of stinging insect.

* * *

You would think the ability to travel anywhere in the world in seconds would eradicate jet-lag, right? Wrong. If anything it made it worse. One minute it was nearly midnight , the next it was barely past noon. After they day she'd had Miko's body was screaming at her to stop and rest, but she knew there was still a long way to go before that could happen.

Both Father and Daughter agreed they would tell Miko's grandmother the truth, and that afternoon they did just that. Everything from Miko's involvement with the Autobots to her fathers agreement to help Unit:E keep their world safe from the dangers of his old home, and Naoko took in every development with the same small and plastered but somehow earnest smile she had long ago mastered. Dynomo introduced Wheeljack, and told her that the Wrecker would be acting as their guardian until after the funeral.

But not much went unnoticed by a Nakadai, and before either swordsmech knew it she had already discerned them as old acquaintances. Both reluctantly acknowledged that they had trained under the same master, and each was grateful when the elder Nakadai left it at that.

All this though was just the families way of stalling, and as dinner time came they ran out of excuses. The mood in the house turned solemn as their conversation turned to the funeral and the plans Naoko had already set in motion. Miko felt herself go numb in front of her plate as her mothers wishes for a small, quick ceremony were laid out, but the voices around her ran together as Miko's thoughts turned to the washitsu.

She kept struggling with the decision until her grandmothers voice rang through. She asked Miko if she would like to try on some gowns for the funeral. Miko quickly agreed, but clothes were the furthest thing from her mind, and still were thirty minutes later.

She growled and tossed another black kimono aside, telling herself they were either to long, too short, or wouldn't fit right, but she knew she was lying to herself. She dropped back onto the bed mat, head in her hands as she tried desperately to get her emotions under control. Just then an outline appeared at the door, but Miko ignored it.

"Miko?" Her grandmothers voice called as the thin door creaked open, any further questions vanishing when she saw Miko sitting on the bed. She wordlessly closed the door behind her and hobbled over to sit beside her granddaughter. With features withered as much by grief as by age she took Miko into a hug.

"There there," She said softly, "its all right Miko, its all right." She held her for a few more moments before Miko found her voice again.

"Gran-gran. When Sofu died," She stumbled when the pang of guilt shot through her at bringing up her grandfathers death. "Did you, see him at the..." But Naoko was already wearing that wise knowing face.

"You want to know, whether or not you should see your mother before the ceremony." Miko nodded and looked away.

"I don't want to see her like that," she admitted shamefully, "but if I don't see her before what does that say about me?" But before Miko could go any further she felt her grandmothers hands on hers.

"It says," She started with a calm but grim knowing, "that you value your mothers memory very dearly, and that you don't wish to have that love tainted by grief. It is not weakness, its a choice, one we all must make when times like these come." Her smile turned a stale kind of mournful as she looked away from Miko, her mind wandering.

"I remember when we got the news that your great grandfather had died at sea. I was a few years younger than you are now, but all I could think about was how my last memory of him, would be of he and mother kissing in the garden before he left for Osaka." Miko hesitated, but knew her grandmother was not the kind of person to answer unless she was asked.

"Did that make dealing with it any easier?"

"I think it all depends," Naoko returned, patting Miko's leg before grabbing her cane and pushing herself up. "Now, lets see about finding you something presentable to wear." She walked to the closet and began going through the clothes herself as Miko's curiosity got the better of her.

"What was your dad like?" Naoko paused for a moment, then smiled and returned to searching.

"He was kind," she said wistfully, "a calm, honorable man. Did you know he built his own boat? He kept it behind the house on a little dock we made, and sometimes we would take it across the lake and have lunch."

"Did he build boats for a living?"

"No," Naoko said, voice hollowing ever so slightly. "He was a sailor in the Imperial Navy, during the second great war. Ah, here we are." She took out a long purple kimono and held it up to the light. "This should do wonderfully. Now, lets see how it fits." Reluctantly Miko got up and put the dress on, slipping her arms into the sleeves then letting her grandmother wrap her stomach in the layers of ties. She had just finished tying the bow at the small of Miko's back when she reached up and plucked the hair ties from her granddaughters pigtails.

"Gran gran!" She yelped, spinning around to face her smiling elder, who actually looked to be on the verge of tears. Miko was about to ask, but then she saw her reflection in the mirror across the room. "Wha, is that me?"

Any further questions died on her lips as Miko took in her own drastically changed image in the mirror. Her shorts and tank top had vanished beneath the ankle length dress. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders, pink bands like flames running up from the tips to meet her dyed bangs where they arced down to frame her face better than any mirror. The lamp light over head made the deep purple silk of the Kimono gleam like polished metal, and the pink cherry blossom designs glittered as if moving in a spring wind, while the obi sash around her stomach shimmered as its own design of two intertwined dragons, one green one gold, caught the light and sparkled as if carved from diamonds.

"It was one of Mikahura's requests," Naoko explained with a sad smile, "That no one at her funeral could wear black. She said she wanted to be remembered for the happy times she shared, not the pain or grief her passing would cause." Miko turned so her side faced the mirror, brushing a small strand of hair behind her ear while a tear rolled down her grandmother's face. "You look just like her Miko. She would have been so proud of the strong, beautiful woman you have become." A slow smile crept over Miko's face even as fresh tears welled to her eyes.

"I wish I could have spent more time with her," She said distantly as her grandmother adjusted the bow of her sash. "I barely even saw any of you between traveling and the autobots."

"Don't blame yourself, Mikahura was the exact same way when she was your age."

"Really?" Miko asked skeptically glancing back at her grandmother. Granted she hadn't been as strict as her father, but Miko couldn't exactly see her mother as the tomboy dare devil type.

"Sure. Why when she was little your grandfather and I had to tie a bell around Mika's arm just to keep her from wandering off into the woods. And she was always skipping school to visit her friends. Stayed up until dawn most nights too, playing in that band of theirs." Miko listened as Naoko recounted stories of her mothers childhood, of a fiery independent young woman always on the look out for the next adventure and more like her daughter than Miko had ever imagined.

They were not the only pair recounting tales that night.

Dynomo brushed aside another branch as Wheeljack walked through the forest, letting the smaller cybertronian ride on his left shoulder if only for times sake.

"How much farther until we find this something?" The wrecker asked, anxious of the distance from his youngest charge and fellow wrecker, though the houses lights were still visible behind them in the setting sunlight.

"Just over the next rise," Dynomo assured, before the two fell back into silence. Then after a ten second eternity Dynamo said: "I'm sorry Wheeljack."

"For what?" The wrecker snorted, turning his helm away, but he could hear the twinges of accepted shame in Dynamo's voice.

"Everything," He answered. "The part I played in Megatron's rebellion, breaking my oath to Dai Atlas and the High Council, but most of all I am sorry I had to betray you and the others to satisfy my own ruinous lust for combat." It was then they entered a small clearing in the tree's, their tall trunks forming a wall around an object Wheeljack had thought he'd never see again. Dynomo dismounted from his perch on the Wreckers shoulder and approached the object, its segmented blade bound together with vines and roots.

Even with its tip impaled in the earth the rounded hilt still came up to Wheeljack's waist, its servo guard and handle not yet touched by the plant life that had ensnared the rest of the sword. The greenery was laced through the blades spear head shaped segments, themselves linked together like teeth as one's base locked into the others tip, wider segments tapering down to the tip hidden below ground. Dynomo approached the overgrown weapon and placed a hand on the roots covering it, and hung his head with a heavy sigh.

"I was so ready to taste that battlefield glory. So eager to hear my name chanted by millions, to be hailed a hero. But there is no glory in battle worth the lives it costs." For a moment the swords mech's words hung in the air along side his head, until Wheeljack spoke up

"Hey, you wanna know a secret?" Dynomo turned to face the wrecker as Wheeljack lifted his right hand an closed his thumb and pointer digits together until they nearly touched.

"This close," He said in the cold hard tone of a veteran. "The day after we found out you'd run away, I came this close to joining you in Polyhex." Dynomo looked up at his former friend incredulously, shocked at the confession. "You weren't the only one who'd had enough of the Senate's slag," He admitted with stale guilt, "but you were the only one of us that had the bearings to do something about it."

"I broke my oath to the High Council," Dynomo countered flatly as he looked away from his former friend. "I turned my back on all of you. Even our Sensei. There is no excuse for what I did." Even through his repenting, Wheeljack noticed something missing from the smaller cybertronian's tone: regret.

'Why should he,' Wheeljack thought. If Dynamo had never joined the cons he wouldn't have left cybertron, never found his way to earth, never found love and Miko would have never been born.

"Hey," Wheeljack said to get Dynamo's attention. "You remember all those cheesy sayings Yoketron was always telling us?"

"I can recall a few," The swordsmech shrugged confused.

"I think one of them went like this: The seeds of salvation must sometimes be grown in the soil of deception. Now," he said, tone shifting from wise to his usual crass and bold, "Don't think for a minute this means I'm gonna forget whats happened, but as far as making amends goes." He cracked a smile, helm tilting a little to the side. "You're getting there." Dynomo allowed himself a smile of his own, spark welling at the thought of regaining an old friends trust.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly, even as Wheeljack's attention went to the plant covered weapon.

"Its funny though," he remarked folding his arms across his chestplates. "You didn't use to be the sentimental type."

"Fatherhood changes many things," Dynomo countered, even as his voice began to show his true age. "I suppose some part of me always knew the war would find me again, that my family would be thrown into danger once more because of me."

"Still, not like you'll ever be able to use it again, locked alt mode and all." But the way Dynomo's eyes glanced up and down his old sword told more than his words had meant too. "Oh-HOo No! No. Don't even think about it!"

"My family is all I have left," Dynomo snarled back with a voice as determined as it was grim. "And I will do whatever it takes to protect them."

"Does that include ripping yourself in half? You know what happens to someone who tries to transform with a locked cog. You'll tear your frame in half before you even land a punch and even if you did make it to robot mode there's no telling what else could go wrong." But the smaller Cybertronians resolve did not waver.

"If that is the price I must pay, so be it."

"Same old Dynamo," Wheeljack groaned shaking his helm. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I," he said putting his back to the vine covered monument. "So do I."

* * *

"Yes Mom, I know exactly what I'm doing." It wasn't the first lie Jack had told today, but it was one June Darby was far from believing. "Look, I know its short notice, but Fowler trusts me enough to put me in charge. What does that say about me if I say no?" But his mother launched a quick retort that made Jack blush. "What?! No! This is not just about seeing Arcee again!" He sighed and paused when he realized his temper had gotten the better of him.

"I'm sorry Mom, but I can't talk about it over open phone lines. Not with Soundwave on the loose again. I know its your job to worry about me, but seriously Mom, give yourself a vacation once in a while. I'm not a kid anymore. I'll write back every chance I get, ok? Love you too Mom. Goodnight." Jack tapped the screen of his phone and ended the call before letting the hand holding it fall to his side. He'd had this conversation before more or less, but repetition didn't make it any easier.

He leaned back against the wall of his room, wincing slightly when his head rolled too far to the left and onto his damaged skin. Jack hadn't even realized he'd been cut until Ratchet started yelling at him to hold still. A medic had bandaged him up once they bridged back, but energon blades have a strange way of slicing through organic flesh and leaving it to slowly cauterize. Ratchet said it had something to do with a sub-atomic particle reaction between the opposing genetic and synthetic materials. Whatever the reason, Jack's wound had stopped bleeding within thirty minutes of being opened, but the medic made it clear he would have a scar there for the rest of his life.

He abandoned the wall and walked toward his bed, but just as he passed the small chest of drawers he felt eyes on him through the open door.

"Sorry," he said tiredly as he turned around, "I'm used to leaving the door." His voice faltered when he saw who was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she leaned on the frame. "...Open," he swallowed. "Hey Sierra."

"Jackson," She returned icily, much colder than Jack remembered. "You never answered." The expectant tone caught Jack off guard.

"Uh, beg your pardon?"

"My question at dinner," She clarified flatly, eyes narrowing to slits. "How long have you been working with the Autobots Jack?" Sierra cold tone seemed to freeze the whole room over like a blizzard, and Jack felt the color of his face drain. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out a sound to come out of it while Sierra began to tap her foot.

"I'm waiting."

"Uhh," he stumbled, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "High school, sophomore year." Sierra said nothing, but her glare prodded him like a hot iron. "Look, I get it if your mad at me, but you have to understand that things were different back then."

"Your Director already briefed us on that_,_" She hissed stomping forward and looking Jack right in the eyes, and he could see her temper flaring behind those olive green orbs. "I want to know why _you_ didn't tell _me_. Why you lied to me for Two! Years!"

"Because I thought it was over," he snapped back, his own self control eroding. "I thought that after everything we went through, fighting Megatron, being hunted by the cons, loosing our home!" he caught himself before he completely lost it, turning around and running a hand through his hair. "I thought that after everything that happened that maybe, just maybe," he said turning around to face his ex-girlfriend, "I could have a normal life again, or something resembling one."

"Easy for you to say," Sierra returned, more sarcastic than cold thankfully. "Next you're gonna say I was your one hope at your normal life. God, why do you have to be so mushy all the time?" Her words were casual, but Jack visibly deflated.

"I thought I was being romantic," he mumbled under his breath, before attempting to lighten the mood. "But my ex-girlfriend always told me I was better at making women laugh at my expense than swoon over me."

"She sounds smart," Sierra said as a smile broke from her lips, and Jack found himself lost in her eyes. "What?" She asked, "Is there something on my nose?"

"No no, nothing's wrong," he backpedaled hastily, only to start tripping over his tongue. "Its uh ... I can't believe I ... you are so beautiful." Sierra's smile twitched and grew ever so slightly as a tinge of blush flashed over her cheeks, but her eyes told infinitely more of the shift Jack's words had caused.

"...Look, Jack," she said carefully and exhausted. "I didn't ask for this whole alien robot planet boot-camp thing but I just don't want things to be awkward between us." Jack did his best to hide the smirk, as both of them knew they were well past awkward, but he put on a serious face nonetheless.

"Ok."

"I'm here to learn what I need too to keep my job," she said quickly, but suddenly got very serious. "But get one thing straight Jacky. The Director might've named you commanding officer, but if you want me to follow your orders you're gonna have to earn that respect."

"Fair enough," Jack replied, already kicking himself for what he was about to say. "Just tell me one thing."

"And that is?" Sierra asked as jack looked right into her eyes.

"Why did you leave?" Now it was Sierra that panicked, but instead of going pale she closed her mouth tightly and swallowed hard before responding curtly.

"Goodnight Jackson." Then she turned around, walked out the door, and left Jack standing alone in his room without an answer. Truthfully he'd expected that kind of reaction from her, and it wasn't like this was the first time she'd walked out on him.

* * *

When Soundwave reemerged from the tunnels he had been hoping to make it to his quarters and a nice long recharge. Instead he found his path blocked at the turn to the command center by a very annoyed, impatient looking Dragstrip.

"Ey yo chatterbox," She called as Soundwave walked past her and down the hall. "I don't think I ever got the memo about an insecticon hive in the basement." Soundwave stopped walking and while outside he kept a clam appearance, inside his vents were cycling like mad. If they knew about the hive, did they know about him? "Found the tunnels after one of the pests burrowed its way up into the med-bay and tried to eat Wildrider's left foot," Dragstrip explained without an ounce of concern in her voice, "Little glitch better be glad the room wasn't sound proof."

"Might want to look into it though," Motormaster said just as Soundwave's sensors registered his approach from the direction he himself had been heading. "I swear to Primus if I catch that sorry excuse for slag screaming like a femme again I'll melt him down for lug-nuts." His tirade was ruined by his sparkmate's scoff.

"Yeah right, you just might make good on those threats, now that Breakdown's bit the dust." Soundwave made a note to inquire the Stunticons about their adoption of earth slang into their vocabularies. "And with him gone," Dragstrip smirked folding her arms behind her head, "No more Mena-eyesore."

"That reminds me," Motormaster said looking at Soundwave. "Any word from your contact yet?" But before Soundwave could even find an audio recording to use, Dargstrip intervened.

"Contact? You mean that pest program that keeps popping up on the comm monitor?" Before either Stunticon could say Kaon Krusher, Soundwave had already made a b-line into the command center. He reached the comm station's holographic interface just as Motormaster ducked through the hall door, and noticed that while the message had his contact's email address and signature, this time there was an access request for a visual interface.

"You know Soundwave," Dragstrip started accusingly. "Between the insecticons and this new contact, I'm starting to get the feeling you've been holding out on us."

"She's right Wave," Motormaster barked reluctantly, "When are we gonna meet him?" Soundwave keyed the command to open the chat, and faced his comrades with a flat recording.

"_:now:" _The holo-interface flickered as a second projection suddenly appeared in front of the screen, and both Stunticons took a step back when the image coalesced into a human nearly as tall as they were. His dark green trench coat hugged his broad shouldered frame, though the main feature of interest was the robotics covering the right side of his skull and the red optic in place of his eye.

"This?" Dragstrip asked in disbelief as her sparkmate engaged his mouth-guard, "This is your contact?"

"Not exactly I'm afraid," The man said as if he was talking to a foreign dignitary. "The young man you have been contacting is part of my organization, but unfortunately he is unavailable at the moment. I thought it best not to bore you with a middle man." Soundwave looked at Motormaster, still afraid the stunticon leader's aversion to organics would derail any negotiations before they started, but when he stepped up to the hologram Soundwave could only hold his breath.

"And who am I speaking too exactly?" He asked looking down at the cybertronian sized but still much shorter than him avatar.

"My underlings know me as General," He said confidently, "But to you I am Zarak, Leader of the Mechanical Evolution Coalition of Humanity."

"Mech huh?" Dragstrip smiled, smoothly cutting in front of Motormaster, who was looking very relieved as his sparkmate fell back on her political caste upbringing. "Interesting. In our culture Mech is a term for what you would call the male sex."

"Our world utilizes it a bit more loosely," The General admitted with no small amount of courtesy. "The acronym itself was also something of an accident. Forgive me," he said suddenly apologetic, "But on my world it is rude to address a member of the fairer sex without asking their name first."

"We have a similar custom on Cybertron. I am Dragstrip, Second in Command and Diplomatic specialist of the Stunticon squad of the Decepticon Army. And I must say," she smiled looking at The Generals robotic implants, "Its nice to know there are humans willing to embrace technology for what it is."

"Thank you," Zarak smiled with a slight nod of his head as his tone shifted smoothly to business. "I had hoped we might reach an agreement of some sort that would benefit both our factions."

"Such as?" Dragstrip asked in a thinly veiled get-to-the-point.

"Resources," he said flatly. "We know you are currently outmatched by the Autobots, and We can remedy this. If you allow our scientists access to cybertronian technology for us to reverse engineer, we will repay you a hundred fold with new troops and safe locations to stage your operations from on Earth. I also have teams standing by to seize control of several energon mines."

"Won't that mean revealing your organization to the Autobots human collaborators; Unit:E?"

"No one can hide forever," he said with solemn but rock like confidence. "The time for disguises is nearly over, and when that hour comes I do not intend to let the future of Humanity be snuffed out by a few backwards old men." Motormaster nodded his helm approvingly and smiled behind his mouth-guard, Dragstrip smiling likewise.

"Very well then General Zarak, consider your offer accepted. Allow me to introduce our Communications Officer, Soundwave," She said stepping aside to let The General see the silent Con. "He'll provide you with everything you need to recreate our technology, in exchange of course for a reliable supply of energon, until more troops are available you understand."

"But of course," The General smiled and bowed, "You will have the first shipments within the month. And forgive me if I sound too bold, but I believe this is the beginning of a very important friendship."

"As do I General."

"Mad'am," he said nodding courteously to Dragstrip, then to Soundwave and Motormaster. "Gentlemechs, I bid you goodbye." The hologram flickered out before finally vanishing as Motormaster stalked up behind his sparkmate.

"Do you trust him?" He asked, only for Dragstrip to scoff and roll her optics.

"Like I trust a turbo fox to stand still. But we're still Decepticons aren't we?" she asked inclining her head back and up. "Since when have we made deals based on trust?" Motormaster laughed in his vocalizer, components grinding together.

"True," he said steering Dragstrip off to another part of the base as Dragstrip started going on about how badly they needed the supplies, leaving Soundwave alone in the command center with recharge now the last thing on his mind. His audios had recorded the humans promises of new troops and resources word for word, but through it all the only thing he saw was the being saying them.

The way he charmed the Stunticon second spoke volumes, but nowhere near as much as his body language; smooth and controlled. His words spoke of a grand vision for his race, and Soundwave was certain the man had the ambition to make that vision a reality no matter the cost. He would wait until he better understood this General Zarak, but already Soundwave sensed a familiar fire within the human, one that could perhaps return the Decepticons to their former glory.

* * *

**I decided to stick with the insecticon designs from the video games instead of the show, more variety for fight scenes. A cookie will be awarded to whoever can name the reference I made to a well known machinima series. **

**Now, I got good news, bad news, and a problems. Good news is, I now have a clear idea in my head of where I want this story to go and end up. Bad news is, classes start back tomorrow that will more than likely slow updates to a snails pace. **

**Here's the problem: I stuck with Dynamo's sword design from Beast Wars, but I'm in a bit of a fix as to what Miko's melee weapon of choice should be. On one hand her depiction in the show leans toward something like an ax or hammer, some heavy hitting get-out-of-the-way weapon, and that was what I had in mind starting out. But the more I've thought about it and the more I've written the more I realize that I want something more controlled but still properly over-the-top. Something that reflects her japanese heritage as much as it does her cybertronian. I asked my friends but all they would suggest is swords from animes. **

**So, any ideas? **


	16. Ch 15: Head-Case

**Authors Notes: It goes without saying you guys have been too good to me when it comes to reviews and comments and I can't thank you enough or tell you how truly massive you made my ego. (as if it wasn't big enough as it was) But last week I got taken down a few notches by a friend I asked to beta read parts of the new chapter, and they delivered the gut punch I never saw coming. **

**They said it reminded them of the Micheal Bay movies. **

**...Ouch. **

**He told me it was the amount of time I, quote: wasted on the regular humans: and that I should write more on the transformers. I argued that people don't just enjoy transformers because of the giant robot war factor, but for the colorful personalities and character interactions, but the movie comment has left me pretty self conscious. **

**so, what do you guys and gals think? Have I fallen down the toilet drain behind Bay, or is my friend the one who's full of it?**

* * *

The sky was pitch black over Tokyo, but the city itself might as well have been a second sun. Even as the night grew long the streets were filled with streams of people, flowing across crosswalks in throngs. Bulkhead fidgeted in his vehicle mode, not comfortable with any part of the situation. Not only was he sitting parked in the middle of downtown Tokyo sticking out like a monster truck at a smart car convention, but his new "partner" had left him there and vanished into the late night crowd. To top it off his self repair systems were still popping dents out of his alt-mode chassis, as if his sheer size wasn't attracting enough attention.

'Maybe Wheeljack's right,' he groaned to himself as he adjusted his side mirrors, 'Maybe it is time I lost a few kilos.' But all he could really think about was Miko, sitting at home with her father and grandmother getting ready for her mother's funeral, while he looked after her Uncle. He would have driven straight to her house if Ratchet hadn't bridged him right to Rodney's front door. As if on cue said relative appeared out of the crowd like a ghost, darting across the street, unlocking and jumping into the Wreckers driver seat in a flash. He was still gasping for breath when Bulkhead activated his vocalizer.

"Dude, where's the fire?" Rodney jumped straight up in his seat, banging his head into the ceiling so hard Bulkhead felt his alt mode move.

"Fer cry'n out loud!," he snapped, rubbing his head, "I told yous not to do dat! Now I know what de mallet on a steel drum feels like."

"Hey, you're the one nose-diving into the talking truck."

"Eh, touche," He shrugged in defeat, moving as if to turn the ignition and put the "truck" in gear before Bulkhead started into Tokyo's traffic.

"So what was all that about?" He asked as he adjusted the rear-view mirror to look at Rodney.

"Jus some loose ends to tie up," he said settling back in the drivers seat. "Disagreements bout vacation time, work hours, employment status. Meh, dat job was de pits anyways."

"You quit?," Bulkhead asked surprised.

"Like I said. it was de pits," he laughed half heartedly. "I mean, yeah some intrest'n stuff came in once'n a while, but most days it was jus fanboy's look'n te sell deir Sentai whatever collections. Sides," He smirked leaning back with his hands behind his head. "An international secret agent don't need no work hours tying him down. Truth is," he said in a much more honest tone. "I been in dis town too long. Time I stretched my legs an did some travel'n again."

"Wait," Bulkhead said in step with his processor, "you're skipping town?"

"What? No! Course not!" he replied quickly, averting his eyes from the mirrors, before muttering under his breath. "...Not just yet anyways."

"Hey!" But Rodney only laughed and lightly smacked the Wrecker's console.

"I'm yank'n yer tailpipe ya big lug, Lighten up." Bulkhead tried to shrug it off, deciding the best way to do that was change the subject.

"Funny," He said with mild sarcasm as they stopped for a traffic light, "Whirl and Topspin used to call me that."

"Is dat so?" Rodney said distantly, "Were dey part of yer Wreckers too?"

"Best fliers we ever had," Bulkhead beamed as they started moving again, a grey and red muscle car pulling in behind them. "Whirl could fly circles around any Con, and Topspin didn't know how to loose a fight."

"Surpris'n how war brings out the best in some people," Rodney said casually, and instantly regretted it.

"... And the worst," Bulkhead said darkly, remembering the darker side of the Wrecker's missions.

"Ey look, I didn't mean to." But before Rodney could apologize, Bulkhead's mirrors turned away from him and the controls stiffened as the seat lurched upright.

"Hands on the wheel," Bulkhead barked. "Now." Rodney quickly complied, sitting up in the drivers seat and playing the part of haggard commuter. "We got a follower," He explained curtly. "Muscle-car two lanes over and three cars back. Big energon signal."

"I see'm," Rodney, said looking in the left side view mirror, biting his tongue to keep from swearing when he recognized the 2012 Camaro's gun-metal and blood red color scheme. "Ah crap its Wildrider." Bulkhead felt his fuel pump squirm at the name of the Stunticon Berserker, but he kept his head.

"Just keep your eyes on the road," he reminded the agent, and himself. "If he was here to slag us he'd have already done it. Motormaster must have him running recon."

"Or try'n te find out where Chopperface n Streaks are," The agent remarked grimly, now focusing on the gps display of the highway interchange ahead on Bulkhead's console. "Take de next right and exit up." But Bulkhead wasn't so eager to follow Rodney's instructions when he saw the traffic.

"Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but won't that take us into stand still traffic? We'll never loose him in that."

"Dat's why," Rodney smirked, "we're gonna take a little short-cut."

* * *

The traffic on the overpass was deadlocked with late night commuters. One young japanese man in particular was waiting it out with a good manga and a lukewarm cup of coffee to keep him alert. He turned the page, when suddenly his drink rippled. He looked at it, then saw it ripple again, this time the cup itself shaking as well. He put down his comic and looked around through his car's windows just as the vehicle started to shake rhythmically on its wheels. He kept looking around for the source of the vibrations, but didn't find one until he looked in his rear view mirror.

Two cars behind him, a green metal giant was carrying a tiny man in his palm, gingerly stepping across and between stopped cars as careful as a long tailed cat in a rocking chair store. He quickly snatched up his manga, comparing the metal giant with the ogre like green beast on the cover, and watched with bugged eyes as the giant robot climbed down the other side of the bridge, careful not to bend the guard rail too much.

The driver took one last look at his comic, then rolled his window down and tossed it out into the roadway. Rubbing the sleep out of his tired and possibly hallucinating eyes, he reached for his coffee, but stopped just before pressing it to his lips. He gave the drink a long hesitant look, before pouring it out the window for good measure.

* * *

Bulkhead made sure not to land so hard as to crack the pavement, then quickly transformed back into vehicle mode and took off down the deserted stretch of overpass. Above and behind him meanwhile Wildrider began to throw a fit.

"BUT HE JUST TRANSFORMED AND DANCED ACROSS THE ROAD RIGHT IN FRONT OF DEIR EYES!" He shrieked over the comms, but Motormaster's voice never wavered.

"I don't care if he was singing Can't Touch This! You so much as transform yer pinky, I'll slag ya down to your protoform!" As Bulkhead and Rodney vanished across Tokyo bay, Wildrider decided now was a good time to remind Motormaster just how many earth terms counted as swears in cybertronian.

* * *

"I don't mean to sound timid," Tar said, nervously thumbing his hands in his lab coat's pockets, "But is allying ourselves with the decepticons reeeeaaalllyy the best idea at the moment?"

"Whats the matter?" General Zarak asked the doctor casually as he stepped out of the constricting bubble of cameras and motion sensors that had allowed him to project his image as a hologram, Scalpel climbing down from atop one of the cameras and onto his master's shoulder. "I thought you of all people would be overjoyed to examine alien technology." he said lightly petting the tiny mechanoid. "You've never passed up the chance before."

"_Before_ the technology didn't have a mine of its own," Tar retorted, knowing well he was one of only a handful of people could talk to the general of Mech like this and live to tell about it. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't them handing over their tech dependent on _us_ getting them those energon mines?"

"That was our accord," Zarak nodded, Scalpel skittering to his opposite shoulder as the General turned his head to regard his other lieutenant lounging in one of the techs swivel chairs by an antiquated generator. "Well, what about it Ferrex?"

"My boys can take the mines no problem," the rust manipulator said dismissively, arms folded behind his head in relaxation. "We go in in small teams, jam the comms and computers, then ghost the feds and the mines are ours." But his casual air quickly became serious as he leaned forward in his chair. "The hard part, will be keeping the E's from taking them back. We don't have the man power to hold off a counterattack, specially if they decide to throw one of those Autobots at us." But despite the obvious complications, the General retained his small confident smile.

"I've been told the South African army recently purchased a new order of automated remote weapons systems. Unfortunately," He smirked, an expression that told his lieutenants all they needed to know, "the ship carrying them went down in a storm in the Indian Ocean. They should make defending the mines much easier for your troops Ferrex."

"Against other humans yeah, but what about the Autobots?"

"They will be much too busy with our Decepticon friends." Zarak's voice was confident and assured, but he knew he was taking a gamble. The stolen shipment of sentry guns would be the last piece of the puzzle before they finally trained their weapons on Unit:E, and a single moments falter from them could mean destruction.

"Excuse me," Tar said suddenly, darting off to another part of the complex as his comrades looked on.

"Its funny really,' Ferrex remarked lazily, "Used to he was just the sadistic tech-surgery wacko. Now he doesn't even hardly have the time to be insane anymore."

"Our dreams are not without demands," The General said knowingly, "But Tar is stretched thin, managing this facility and keeping our operations hidden."

"Barely," Ferrex scoffed. "He's had to put down more than one jar-head before they blew the whole thing open." He leaned back against the generator, metal slowly flaking and oxidizing where his skin grazed it and his tone changed from dismissive to pleading. "You know I'd sooner shoot myself than betray you Boss, but after all this time in the dark, scrapping by in scrap-shacks like this, a few of the commanders they're well ... antsy. A lot of them won't like this new alliance."

"No they won't," Zarak mused darkly, "They're still much to fond of Silas's memory." He sighed, closing his eye as Scalpel skittered up atop his head to adjust the mechanisms of his optical implant.

"Don't get me wrong the guy was a jack-hole, but a lot of his strategies made sense to,"

"_Colonel Leland Bishop_," The General snapped suddenly cutting Ferrex off, "was a paranoid imbecile who allowed his ambition to blind him." he took a breath through his nostrils to calm himself befroe admitting: "But the one thing he wasn't was a fool. He knew better than to trust Megatron, just as he knew better than to trust me. But now," he said as something dangerous and unhinged leaked into the General's smirk, "with their leader out of the picture, the Decepticons might just be a tad more susceptible to, '_outside influence_,'." Ferrex only had a split second to ponder his leader's implications before Tar came running back into the room, gasping for breath.

"Huuuh, Masterson, Guuuuuhhh, video, guuuuuhh," he wheezed, doubling over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Wow," Ferrex laughed, "Haven't seen him move that fast since ... You know I don't think I've ever seen this weasel run." But as the lieutenant mocked, Zarak knelt down beside the doctor.

"What's happened Tar?"

"It's Masterson," The surgeon gasped, "I've lost the up-link to his computer, and the surveillance feed he hacked for us has been disabled. Even his shock chip is being jammed." Ferrex swallowed hard, and slowly turned just enough to glance at his commander's reactions. The General's fists clenched, creating an audible bony pop as his calm demeanor began to stretch and his voice snarled.

"Fowler," He spat as if the name was a curse, and both lieutenants looked at their commander anxiously. "Masterson is compromised," he finally said, turning his head only slightly toward Tar's direction. "Bring the shock chip back online. The moment you have a connection, _Terminate_."

* * *

Fowler Didn't bother hiding his swear when the computer technician told him the connection was rebooting. Not five minutes after disrupting Mech's hack and they were already onto them. Of all the day's for Rafael to go back to college why today?

"Keep blocking them," He ordered. "The longer we keep them on the outside the more time we'll have to track their signal!"

"I'm trying Sir," the head computer tech shouted in a controlled panic. "But this guy's good. If we don't sever the connection completely they will get back inside our network!"

"Not yet!" Fowler barked. "Not until we have a lock on their location!" He just hoped they could keep them out until then.

* * *

"You shouldn't be here."

Miko spun around, ash and dust kicking up into clouds at her feet as she searched for the voices source.

"Who are you?!" She demanded, equal parts angered and frightened, "And where the heck am I?!"

"My identity," The deep, rumbling male voice growled, "Is not for you to know. As I said," it snarled angrily, "You should not be here."

"WHERE IS HERE?!" Miko yelled, pulling at her hair, only to fins smooth metal and see her hands and arms were no longer skin, but purple metal. "What the?" She wondered out loud as she realized her whole body was now covered in the same deep purple armor, streaked through with blue accents and pink energon lines.

"As for where you are," The voice seemed to mock as Miko slowly reached up to touch her face when suddenly an enormous light burst from behind her, illuminating a charred smoldering landscape. She turned to face the light, shielding her eyes as another burst shone through a forest of black smoke columns, their bases blazing red from the inferno. Miko's jaw went slack at the sight of an entire city on fire, but it was nothing compared to what was in the middle of the destruction.

Its black armor seemed to burn with the firestorm around it as it waded through the carnage, gleaming all the way up its massive, mountain like hind legs to where its much smaller arms hung held to its sides. Its tail, easily as long as the rest of the beast was tall, lashed out behind it, sweeping away entire swaths of burning buildings and throwing their embers high over the inferno. Then, with the city burning all around it, the towering giant stopped, then heaved as its whole body, from tail tip to neck began to glow bright blue-white beneath its black plating. The glow traveled all the way up its thick neck before the beast threw its reptilian head back, only to snap its entire body forward, throwing its jagged jaws open to unleash a solid beam of pure white hot energy. The blaze exploded where the beam hit, its sheer heat and moment throwing up a new corridor of burning destruction.

Miko threw up her arms to shield herself from the sheer heat of the blast wave, eyes blocked as she felt something large rush past her. All she saw was a flash of white and black stripped fur streak past her, bounding into the inferno ahead. Before she could even process the fur's feline shape, three more outlines appeared against the distant flames, their wings flapping madly.

"Return to the spot of revelations," the voice snapped bitterly as the faint glowing outline of a serpentine dragon came into view. "Bring with you one of the new blood. Then you will know our plight." The three flying forms attacked the black titan, spewing their own streams of energy even as the giant's beam scattered them like flies. Then Miko heard a rumbling from behind her, like the roar of a typhoon.

"Seek the unfamiliar in the familiar," the voice hissed, fiery eyes mocking and disdainful, "And mind the young. For they are the most trustworthy, and most treacherous." She turned around just in time to see her reflection in the sheer wall of black water, green optics and black, pink streaked helm staring back at her before the wave hit her like a truck, and she woke up in a cold sweat.

* * *

Skylynx jolted to his pedes, crouched low with wings spread and wide terrified yellow optics. His neck and chest plates glowed with panicked fire, and it was several minutes before he could control himself enough to cool the flames. But just as he did, a knock on the hangar door startled him.

"Skylynx?" The predacon jumped and turned like lightning toward the door before he recognized Ratchet's voice. Judging by the light streaming from the windows above the hangar door Skylynx guessed it was about noon, probably earlier, a long recharge by cybertronian standards. He quickly transformed and stomped toward the doors, letting his annoyance cover up the lingering effects of his latest nightmare.

"What?" he asked inching the sliding doors open, just enough that the early mid-day sun blinded his optics for a split second. The Medic looked like he had been up for hours, and his face-plates had a look of mounting irritation that already outclassed anything Skylynx could have mustered.

"You were supposed to report for monitor duty two mega-cycles ago," the medic scolded. "Need I remind you that with Bulkhead and Wheeljack off base it's your responsibility to be ready to ground-bridge out in case the decepticons attack?"

"And need I remind _you_," The predacon snarled, "That I'm here to _track_ and _hunt_ them, not play save the citizen like one of your auto-bugs." If Ratchet was intimidated, he failed to show it.

"That does not change the fact you are late!" But all the medic's tone earned was a tired groan.

"Don't you have humans to watch or something?" Skylynx asked running a clawed hand down his face-plates.

"That's not the point," Ratchet suddenly snapped defensively, catching the predacon off guard. "They are more than old enough to fend for themselves," he finished with a hint of self reprehension in his voice, making Skylynx think something had happened to the humans in question.

"Then where are they now?"

"Having a talk with Director Fowler. And if all goes well, soon all four of them will be on their way to Cybertron for training. And for their own protection." Predacon audio sensors were more sensitive than other cybertronian's, but Skylynx still needed a nano second to realize something had changed.

"Four?" The medic didn't bother with a response, but the way his shoulders sagged while the rest of him stiffened told infinitely more.

* * *

_:Earlier that morning, approximately five hours prior:_

Jack had woken up to his alarm clock in a daze. His vision refused to focus and the right side of his torso was almost completely numb. He couldn't even see or really walk straight until he stumbled into the shower and pinned the nob on cold. Six minutes later he was tying a towel round his waist when he finally got a good look at himself.

The dark green web beneath his skin had spread, now running the length of his right arm and not fading until it reached his shoulder. There was even some lines starting to appear on his chest near the joint, but not nearly as noticeable as the lines on his arm. Jack leaned forward onto the sink, trying to steady his panicking nerves, only to feel something break. The rock counter top had cracked like egg shells where his right hand had gripped the edge, pieces falling to the floor as he hesitantly pulled away.

He looked at his arm, feeling it to make sure he wasn't dreaming. It was like smooth stone, the muscles much denser than those in his other arm, and much stronger if the counter was any indication. He flexed his hand and elbow, then struck a pose as he flexed his biceps, his right arms bulging noticeably more than the left.

"Great," he groaned, "I'm turning into Perter Parker." Somehow he managed to make it back to his room without his teammates seeing him, but he had barely slipped both arms into his jacket sleeves and grabbing a pair of black SAP gloves when the kitchen phone rang with a call from Fowler. Ten minutes later the three teammates were pulling up outside one of the countless clone houses covering the base's residential block.

"And we're here why?" Sierra asked, slamming the car door as she followed Jack and Vince to the door of the last person anyone wanted to visit.

"Director's orders," Jack groaned. "Apparently the security up-link to Henry's house went on the fritz last night and he wants us to check it out."

"Probably hacked the feed or something," Vince remarked, pressing the door bell again but still without a response. "Come on," he growled, ringing the bell again and tapping his foot. "He can't still be asleep, it's seven o'clock for Christ's sake!" Jack could only laugh at the irony.

"This coming from the guy who was never less than half an hour late for first period." He caught Sierra smiling from the corner of his eye, but it vanished the moment she saw him looking.

"Hardy Har," Vince laughed dryly, "You're hilarious Darby." He took a few steps back from the door, looking intent on ramming it down before a voice finally answered.

"Hold on a sec!" Jack heard Henry Masterson's voice shouted from the garage to their left, followed by a string of muffled expletives follow, along with the sound of toppling machinery and clanging metal. In fact the sounds of crashing metal continued, joined by the whine of power tools and Henry's muffled cursing. The three teammates exchanged confused looks, equally weirded out by the sounds before Jack slowly approached the garage door.

"Henry?" He called hesitantly, "you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," he shouted back, before yelping like a startled dog. "Gimme a sec, I'm uhh ... Not decent!" Jack had a hard time believing that was true, remembering how Henry had walked into his lab one day in a bath robe and not much else. "Be there in a flash!" he yelled quickly, before something that sounded big and heavy fell. "OW! DANGIT!"

"Screw this," Vince huffed, walking over then stooping down in front of the garage door and working his fingers under the bottom. He heaved up, but the panels barely moved. "Well?!" he barked back at his teammates, "You gonna stand and stare or help me?!" Jack and Sierra bent down to help, but it was soon clear the door wasn't going to cooperate willingly. Sierra growled in her throat and ground her teeth as she struggled.

"Either its locked, or this sucker weighs a freaking ton!" Jack pulled with all his might, only just hearing his teammates grunts and Henry's continued yelps from inside. Then he got the idea to stop using his legs, and put his arms into it as well. With a grunt that sounded more like a gorilla's roar he heaved up, arm muscles bulging like iron. The trio of padlocks holding the door down snapped and the door came rocketing it up into the garage ceiling. But before Vince or Sierra could ask about Jack's sudden boost, all three had their brains blanked by what was behind the garage door.

Inside the tiny two car garage was an inactive vehicon splayed out on its back in robot mode with one side of its chest open, its legs pointed toward them. And lying atop the vehicon's pelvis, on his back, legs in the air with his head towards them was Henry, clad in a deep magenta and gun-metal grey suit of smooth shell like armor clearly built in imitation of cybertronian tech. He kept pulling and cursing as he forced a socket wrench between the plating at his left knee joint, before he suddenly realized he had company. He slowly tilted his head back, looking at the three agents upside down where he sat atop the vehicon's crotch plates. For an awkward four seconds no one said anything.

"Lets be honest," Henry deadpanned, "this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing." Jack's brain could barely register that the statement was unfortunately true as Sierra finally found her voice.

"... What the heck are you wearing?"

"Really?" Vince asked, turning to the pilot and waving at the garage. "That? That's your first question? Out of everything going on here, you're concerned about his fashion statement?"

"You got a better idea where to start?"

"How about, oh I don't know, The giant comatose purple robot IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM?!" The outburst was all the incentive Jack needed.

"Will you both shut up!?" He yelled loud enough to get both recruits attention. With the bickering teammates silenced, Jack turned to proverbial elephants in the room, one of whom was still cursing and pulling at his suit. "Henry," Jack asked tediously, "what what exactly is going on here?"

"I'm stuck, that's what's going on," he snapped, pushing as hard as he could on the knee joint of his suit. "Mother-fragg'n, camp'n kill-steal'n, COME OFF ALREADY! WHOA!" His tossing and turning finally sent him tumbling off his perch with a clang and into a heap on the floor. "I'm okay," he groaned, righting himself and stumbling to his feet. It was surreal how much more imposing the suit made him, adding at least a foot to his height and bulking him out considerably, enough that he towered over Vince, Jack, and Sierra, who rolled her eyes at the inventors eccentric demeanor.

"And here I though you were supposed to be smart," She sighed. "What kind of inventor builds a suit that he can't take off?" Jack however wasn't fooled by the problem on hand.

"Actually I was referring to _why_ he has a Vehicon shell, which is Unit:E property by the way, in his garage. Come to think of it," he said, narrowing his eyes and folding his arms, "I don't recall the Director ever asking you to build a suit for yourself." Vince's annoyed glare turned hard and sharp as his right hand moved to his combat knife, hidden under his shirt in a holster at the small of his back. But Henry only scowled down his nose and waved them off.

"Duh, its a prototype," He said so quickly and callously no one knew if it was true or not. "I needed something I could test and experiment on. I still need to figure out the final kinks of the interface between the suits and cybertronian circuitry, and frankly between you three's body types alone there are enough design variables to blue-screen a super computer! Not to mention the weapons systems, which I haven't even been able to build yet! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get weapons grade Pluntonium into this country, or to find enough vibranium for decent exo-dermal plating for that ma,"

"Henry!" Jack barked, snapping the inventor out of his characteristic ranting.

"What?" the auburn haired geek asked, oblivious to anything worth snapping about, earning another tired groan from Jack.

"Huuuh, forget it. But if it's really just a prototype," Jack said still suspicious, "Then why are you working on it here and not in your lab back in the hangar?"

"With The Hatchet?" Henry scoffed, prying at the paneling on his right gauntlet. "I'd rather pour mercury in my ears. Dang it," he grumbled looking at the table sitting across the room. "Could one of you hand me that flat head screw driver?" When neither of his teammates moved, Vince retrieved the tool, finding it partially hidden by an odd round mass of jumbled parts on a table near the Vehicon's head.

"Wouldn't it be easier to get a blow torch at this point?" He asked handing Henry the tool.

"I did design this thing to come off you know," he said matter of factly as he started trying to pry the plating apart. "Only problem is I can't get to any of the release mechanisms. Not since I went and installed that," he stopped, freezing in place and eyes going wide before he abruptly smacked himself upside the head. "I am such a nooooob."

"A what?" Sierra asked Jack as the inventor tossed the screwdriver away.

"Don't ask," Jack sighed while Henry started reaching behind his back, trying to grasp something but the armor around his shoulders wouldn't let him reach that far. After a few moments of letting the inventor make a fool of himself, Jack gave into his better judgement.

"Hold on," He sighed walking over to help the inventor where he stood near the work bench leaning on the vehicon's shoulder plating. "What do you need?"

"There's a round panel, near the shoulder blades," Henry explained.

"Got it."

"Twist it counter-clockwise until you feel a click." Jack did as he was told, turning the panel until he felt something give and the panel came loose, revealing a strange round , baseball sized assembly beneath.

"Now what?" He asked putting the panel on the table.

"See the weird ball look'n thing?" Henry said hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"Pull it out. Slowly." Jack reached in a gripped the top. "And be careful not to let it touch the siIIIIIIIIIDDEES!" No sooner had he said that though than the orb touched the bottom on its hole, making a electric buzzing sound and shocking Henry.

"Sorry!" Jack said, quickly removing the orb from its slot as the shock dissipated. Henry went right back to trying to get out of his suit, leaving Jack to examine the orb. It only took him a short moment and a glance at the larger but nearly identical mechanism within the vehicon's exposed chest to realize what it was.

"It's a T-cog," he gasped as Sierra and Vince joined him.

"A T-what?" Vince asked.

"A transformation cog," Jack explained, turning the assembly over in his hand. "The most important part of a cybertronian's body. This is what lets them change form, scan alt-modes, use their weapons, everything."

"So basically" Sierra said taking it right out of Jack's hand for a better look, "its what makes a Transformer a Transformer."

"Yeah," Jack nodded, before turning a critical but no less amazed eye on Henry. "You made this?" All he got was a prideful smirk.

"Surprised?" He asked, beaming, only for Sierra to burst his bubble.

"Does it work?"

"... Not exactly," he admitted, ego deflating like an old party balloon. "I remembered Ratchet talking about Transformers repairing themselves by scanning a new alt-mode, and seeing as Fowler wants me to make more suits a-s-a-p."

"You took a short cut," Vince surmised.

"I tried," The inventor corrected, looking over his still very much stuck suit. "All it really did was make this one look presentable. And cover up the release mechanisms," he added with a bang on metal covering his body. As Jack and Vince started rambling off ways to get Henry out of the suit without injuring him, though neither considered it out of the question, Sierra noticed something about the miniature T-cog. That being a tiny difference in the lights flickering on and off at each of it's poles.

"What if it's like a battery?" She asked, earning confused looks from the males in the room. "Like it only works if you put it the right way in, plus to plus minus to minus? Maybe if we put it back in the other way, it'll reverse itself." Henry of course laughed at the idea.

"OH for the love of! That has to be the most lame-brained excuse for a theory I've ever."

"Try it," Jack cut him off, pinning the pompous inventor with a glare. "And if you've got a better idea for getting yourself out of that thing, by all means, share." Henry grumbled something about brain-dead red heads as he grudgingly turned around and let Sierra reinsert the T-cog into his suit.

"There," She said twisting the cover panel back on and stepping back. "Anything?"

"No," he spat in an I-told-you-so tone, before suddenly. "Wait," He said, shifting from one foot to the other and wiggling his shoulders, then shook as if the temperature had just plummeted. "Okay that feels weird." The other three all stepped back, Vince a little farther than his teammates.

"Weird good or weird bad?" He asked hesitantly, seeing Henry was just as scared if not more so than them.

"Not sure, I think," But before he could finish the armor at his neck began to move and shift, followed by the familiar transforming noise as the metal moved up over his mouth, neck, until his entire head was covered in a sleek cowl like helmet and face mask. He had barely started to scream when a beam shot from his helmet's visor, forcing Jack Sierra and Vince to shield their eyes. It scanned the Vehicon lying next to them, which began a transformation of its own, the head folding down and away until all that was left was a hollow stump of a neck. Then as quickly as it began, it stopped, leaving the humans dazed.

"Henry?" Jack called, trying to blink his vision back to normal. His teammates were like wise afflicted.

"Dude," Vince groaned, "Warn somebody before you turn on the light show!"

"Seriously," Sierra agreed before she looked at the inventor. "Whoa." The other three had similar reactions, least of all Henry when he saw what had happened to his suit.

The previously smooth plating had shifted into new blockier shapes, but still retained the element of sleekness that accompanied a cybertronian in robot mode. The shins had and fore arms now had large panel like magenta plating covering them, but the thigh plating was gleaming silver. The upper arms by contrast were gun-metal grey, and they connected to a set of square, stance widening silver shoulder pads set over more magenta plating at the joints. But the the defining feature of the suits upgrade were the helmet and chest. The inventor's face was now hidden behind and outward angled visor and mouth-guard set in a square helmet between two horn like anteanna on either side. The chest however was not so original in look, its plating clearly creating the shape of a Vehicon's brow and face-plates.

* * *

"DAMMIT!" The computer tech screamed as his screen flashed between red and blue, "They've cracked the security program!" Fowler ran to the terminal.

"Can you still keep them out?!"

"They broke through the firewalls! I'm sorry sir, but they're already in."

* * *

"HeheHA! Connection reestablished!" Tar cackled as the program loaded onto his terminal. "Sorry Henry," he smiled sickly as the thumbed the correct key, "But the General's orders are final. Nothing personal! HehehehahaHAHA!"

* * *

"Hey horn-head," Vince called just loud enough to snap Henry out of his self admiring stupor. "Just so we're clear, are you planning on making us new suits, or does one of us get that one as a hand me down?" Jack smiled when he saw Sierra cringe at the idea of wearing the gaudy light purple armor.

"You mean you or Jack," She said quickly. "I wouldn't be caught dead in that." Jack laughed a little at the thought of Sierra in purple, but not as much as Henry.

"I'll make you guys a hundred suits each!" He shouted ecstatically throwing his arms in the air. "Heck I'll even thrown in a body. But this one," he said proudly as the computer in his bedroom flickered. "This one is all miIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" The three teammates jumped when Henry suddenly screamed and grabbed his head.

"Henry!" Jack shouted, moving to help the inventor only to backpedal when his suit began sparking like a tesla coil. They were helpless to do anything but watch as Henry fell to his knee's, still screaming as the force of the shocks started to illuminate the wiring and mechanics beneath his suits armor. Then, with one last horrific scream, Henry threw his head back as sparks flew from every crevice and crack of his suit at once, only to be replaced by smoke and silence. He fell forward, limp and smoldering onto the garage floor.

* * *

Tar's smile was as sick as it was proud when he saw the new massage on his screen, and it only grew when he turned to his nearest assistant.

"Contact General Zarak. Tell him, the threat has been terminated."

* * *

_:Later that day:_

Fowler watched the three teammates with a heavy heart where they stood in the infirmary waiting room, Vince and Sierra leaning on opposite corners of the small room while Jack methodically paced around. They'd gone there straight from de-brief, and though it was clear they all felt guilty, Jack was the only one blaming himself for what had happened, though he didn't know what it was.

"Sir?" one of the bases doctor's called anxiously as he nudged open the door. The director

"What's the verdict?" The Director asked grimly, not taking his eyes from the security monitor.

"We've removed as much of the suit as we can, along with the electronic implant from his shoulder. But ..."

"Bottom line it Doc," Fowler snapped.

"The trauma to his nervous system was massive. He's alive, somehow, but the combination of the suit and the electric shock has."

"I said," Fowler growled, "Bottom. _Line.__ It._"

"...He's paralyzed from the neck down." Fowler felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and slowly collapsed into the chair meant for the monitors at his back. He heard the door open again, and the familiar voice order the doctor out before the door shut again.

"It wasn't your fault," Ace said firmly, but Fowler couldn't tell if it was his friend or the Regent talking to him. "You did everything you could."

"Well I should have done more!" The army ranger vet snapped, finally loosing his composure. "I knew the chip was there!"

"You also knew He was feeding Mech information under the table," Ace shot back, hoping an argument would stabilize the Director.

"**False** information! All they got out of that feed were some still's and looped video!" He jumped out of his chair and began pacing the room, just like the young team leader in the security footage. He was blaming himself for the inventor's suffering, and Ace knew the news he carried was only going to make it worse. But he was putting that off until the last moment.

"You had no choice but to cut the link," The retired Ranger assured. "If Mech had seen what Masterson was trying to build."

"Built," Fowler corrected, stopping his friend cold.

"... You mean he actually."

"And installed it in his own suit," The director said in bitter guilt. "The same suit that's now the only thing keeping him from being bed ridden the rest of his life." He hung his head and sighed, past arguments and shouting matches replaying in his mind one after another. "Prime always said we weren't ready yet. He was right, and we're still not ready for their technology."

"Billy," Ace said as gently as he could, "I know what the big red Boss-Bot meant to you, but the genies out of the bottle. If a college dropout like Henry Masterson can take one long night, a bucket of spare parts, too much caffeine, and turn it into a T-cog, how long do you think it'll be until Mech's egg-heads start popping out their own full size Vehicons?"

"They won't" Fowler said firmly, looking back at the monitors. "Not without him." He saw the video from Henry's hospital room, a myriad of machines and tubes hooked up to the young man to keep him stable until he awoke. "Masterson's mind is unique. If he didn't have an ego the size of Mount Rushmore he'd already have won the Noble peace prize on effort alone. The kid's a genius, and the only reason I've kept him around so long is that no other human can do what Henry Masterson does." That was when Ace realized had no choice but to drop the bombshell.

"Tartarus is gone Billy," he said numbly as he saw his friend freeze in place. "Weather satellite picked up the smoke last night. We sent a team from the Greenland Base but."

"Let me guess," Fowler deadpanned bitterly, "His cell was empty." Ace nodded yes, and the Director's mood took on a new meaning of dark as his friend explained the full situation.

"We know Mech stepped up their operations five years ago, after Silas was discharged for the Damocles debacle. We also know the Colonel wasn't their first choice for a leader, and intel from the other Regents suggest he may have taken over Mech not long before they came out of the shadows. That's roughly the same time you know who was put away." He waited for his friend's reaction, but he could already see the old wounds rising to the surface.

"We can't be sure of anything when it comes to Mech," Ace continued anxiously, "But you and I both know the kind of man _He_ is. He's not like Silas, he's not a scientist. He's a commander. Everything's a war for him, and in war you need allies to win." Fowler looked at his fellow vet, looking for some other meaning to his words hidden in his face, but there was none.

"You're right," he sighed heavily, turning to the monitors. "If he is in command of Mech, the first thing he'll do is strike a deal with the Decepticons." And then the genie really would be out of the bottle, for good. "But," Fowler said steadfastly, "even with Con help it'll take them a while to crack the code. Time we can use. Still," he sighed, "we can't let them get their hands on Masterson. If they find out what he knows, we loose every advantage we have."

"They've got eyes and ears on every continent, where are you gonna hide Masterson that they won't find him?" Ace again waited for a response, only to recognize the look of mischievous dread on Fowler's face. "...Billy," he said hesitantly, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, that Agent Darby's team just signed up it's fourth member."

"Well," The ranger vet groaned, "That's just Prime."

* * *

**And there you have it! Sorry if I wasted your time and eyes, but I needed to get this little origin-spot out there so I could tidy things up story line wise. I realized a while ago I'd let the characters and plot line get away from me, so how does an amateur writer fix too many characters going at once? I took a page from one of George RR Martin's books, and decided to split it into _TWO_ STORIES with even _MORE_ CHARACTERS!**

**From now on Sword of Honor will focus on the trials and tribulations taking place on Earth, centering on Miko and her family, while a still Unnamed spin-off will take readers all the way to Cybertron. There you will watch as the four human headmasters train midst titans and soldiers, Decepticons and Autobots, as veterans from both factions vie for influence in the shaky peace, all the while dealing with the proverbial white predacon in the room. Along the way they will encounter old mysteries and growing threats, one of which will leave both Jack and Sierra scarred beyond measure, and perhaps rekindle a lost spark.**

**And yes for those of you that were wondering I ship JackxSierra. I ship it hard. And to the JackxArcee fans out there, I share your love (just look at my favorite stories list) but there are enough of those fics out there, Besides, I saw an opportunity for development in Sierra's character.**

**Welp, that's all for now, till next time! (hopefully soon)**


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